[Legacy Of The Force] - 01(79)

“Not acceptable. The Galactic Alliance military funding has to come first.”

It was at this point that Han’s attention wandered. He supposed that the two diplomats must be arguing their agendas with what, in political circles, would be considered blinding speed-otherwise the discussion wouldn’t have held his attention even that long. But verbiage had reached a toxic level and he could no longer concentrate on it.

Now he looked around the table, from face to face, trying to glean what information his experience as a sabacc player would grant him.

Saxan and Pellaeon were the most interesting studies. Each was alert, energetic, apparently unmovable in argument position. But they had to come to some sort of agreement here, or both sides would lose-war was an unacceptable result. So below the hard surfaces, each had some flexibility to offer. The question was when they would offer it, and in the face of what circumstances.

Leia was intent on the discussions, though Han noticed that each time a provocative statement was offered, she looked not at Saxan or Pellaeon but at the chief adviser of whichever politician was receiving the statement.

Luke was serene, almost in a meditative state. No-Han corrected himself. Luke was calm, but not serene. There was still the faint shadow of anxiety to his manner. This whole situation with the “man who didn’t exist” obviously continued to worry him.

It troubled Han, too. Luke could see things Han couldn’t. If there were things that Luke couldn’t see, it was likely that no living being in the galaxy could see them.

Except … Han’s attention fell on his son. Jacen was, like Leia, earnestly following the discussion, but he also occasionally turned away from the talk at hand to stare in some direction that always seemed random. Han supposed that Jacen, with his training in diverse and unusual aspects of the Force, was looking in directions no one else felt the need to.

Perhaps he could see things even Luke couldn’t.

Han resolved to talk to his son later.

This first meeting between Pellaeon and Saxan went on for four hours. Eventually, the two diplomats agreed to retire for the evening and resume their talks in the morning, station time.

The delegates and their advisers discovered that they were all quartered on a single passageway of Narsacc Habitat, where the rooms commanded the best view of stars and the moon Ronay. The passageway was named the Kallebarth Way. At each end of its 275-meter run, and at any point a cross-corridor intersected it, a security station had been installed.

The Galactic Alliance delegation was assigned the spinward end of the passageway, having won the right to the slightly more desirable quarters by virtue of the GA having paid for this conference. The Corellian delegation was quartered at the far end. The Jedi accommodations were in the middle. Numerous suites lay unoccupied in the areas between the delegation quarters. The passageways immediately above and below Kallebarth Way were sealed off, all the suites there locked down, in an effort to keep saboteurs from assaulting the delegations from either vertical direction.

Still awake a couple of hours after the breakup of the first meeting, Han sat on a couch facing the Solo suite’s largest viewport, a huge expanse of radiation-shielded transparisteel, fifteen meters long and five high. At the moment it was oriented out to space, but the starfield was slightly marred by the presence of the GA frigate Firethorn, guaranteeing safety, only a kilometer out. The frigate was not stationary; it paced the occupied edge of Narsacc Habitat and so was, from Han’s perspective, fixed in place outside the viewport.

“I think we have the exact center suite,” Han commented. “Accident or design?”

“Design,” Leia said. She was sitting in a chair two paces closer to the viewport than Han’s couch. “Even though Luke’s the Master of the order, the two of us are supposed to be the most neutral of all the parties present-except for Toryaz Station Security-because of our, um, unique circumstances. So we’re smack in the middle.”

Han shrugged. “Still, nice view.” He turned his attention to Jacen, seated at the other end of the couch. “So?”

His son looked thoughtful. “I don’t like this stuff about a ‘man who doesn’t exist.’ “

“Neither do I,” Han said. “Neither does your mother.”

“Maybe, but I suspect we don’t like it for different reasons.” Jacen gave Leia an apologetic look. “Ever since Dad started talking about it, I’ve been looking. Sensing. Peering into the future and the past, to the extent I can.”

Leia nodded. “And?”

“And nothing. I don’t see, or feel, any trace of something like that.” He frowned. “There’s the faintest touch of a female presence that feels antagonistic, malevolent. It has some flavor of the Force with it. But it’s so faint that it doesn’t have to pertain to the here and now. It could be a leftover from years or decades ago. It could be pre-Imperial.”