Star Wars_ Children of the Jedi - Barbara Hambly [3]
“The awful thing is,” said Leia softly, “that a day doesn’t go by that I don’t think about doing it.”
She half turned in his grip, her lips set in that cold expression that he knew hid pain she could not show even to him. The years of enforced self-reliance, of not giving way in front of anyone, had left their mark on her.
“I have the lists. I know who worked on the Death Star, who Palpatine hired in his think tanks, who taught at the Omwat orbital training center—and I know they’re out of the Republic’s jurisdiction. But I also know how easy it would be for me to juggle credits and Treasury funds and hire people like Phlygas Grynne or Dannik Jericho or any of those ‘smuggler friends’ they talk about to find these people and just … make them disappear. Without a trial. No questions asked. No possibility of release on a technicality. Just because I know they’re guilty. Because I want it so.”
She sighed, and some of the pain eased from her face as she met his eyes again. “Luke talks about the power that lies in the dark side. The Force isn’t the only thing that has a dark side, Han. And the tricky thing about the dark side is that it’s so easy to use—and it gets you what you think you want.”
She leaned close and kissed him again, thanking him. Outside the movement of wind filled the sky with light and the sound of chimes.
Leia smiled. “We’re on.”
The herds ingathered. Cities themselves, they linked and joined to form one great shining city of bright stone, dark wood, flashing glass, exuberant with greenery. Segmented bridges stretched like welcoming hands to join clan platform to clan platform, house float to house float. Balloons, gliders, kites skated the air between the platforms; arborals, tree skimmers, the gaudy fauna of the jungle’s top canopy clambered insouciantly up the harvest baskets from the trees below, chattering and whistling on trees and balconies while the Ithorians made their way to the Cloud-Mother’s central square.
The Cloud-Mother—the herd best known for its hospitals and glass manufacturing—had been voted the site of the reception of the Republic’s representatives, mostly because it had the best guest facilities and the largest shuttle-port, though it was also true that it was one of the most beautiful of the herds. Leia had the impression, as she stepped out into the clear, burning sunlight of the top platform of the Meeting Hall’s steps, that the huge square before her was a garden, packed with brilliant silks, wreaths of flowers, from which emerged a forest of wide, leathery necks and gentle eyes.
An ululation of applause and welcome rippled from the crowd, like the song of a million birds at morning. Ithorians waved scarves and flowers, not rapidly but in long, swooping curves. To human eyes they appeared ungainly, sometimes frightening, but here in their home they had a weird, graceful beauty. Leia lifted her hands in greeting, and beside her she saw Han raise his arm to wave. Behind them, solemnly, the three-year-old twins, Jacen and Jaina, released their nurse Winter’s hands to do the same; the toddler, Anakin, only stood, holding Jaina’s hand and gazing about him with round eyes. The leaders of the herds stepped from the crowd, over a dozen of them, ranging in height anywhere from two to three meters and in color from darkest jungle green to the bright yellows of a pellata bird. Atop the broad necks, the T-shaped heads with their wide-separated eyes had an air of gentle wisdom.
“Your Excellency.” Umwaw Moolis, Ithorian liaison to the Senate, dipped her neck and spread her long arms in a graceful gesture of submission and respect. “In the name of the herds of Ithor, welcome to the Time of Meeting. General Solo—Master Skywalker …”
Leia had almost forgotten that Luke would be present, too; he must have come out onto the platform behind her. But there he was, inclining his head in response to the greeting. Her brother seemed to wear an inner silence like