Star Wars_ The Black Fleet Crisis 03_ Tyrant's Test - Michael P. Kube-McDowell [12]
“I see,” Doman said, nodding. “In any event, I’m glad you came to see me before the Council sits. It’s better that these matters be settled privately.”
“I had to come see you,” said Leia, settling into a chair a third of the way around the circle from Doman. “I don’t understand why you’ve done this. I feel betrayed —abandoned by someone I thought was my friend, my father’s friend.”
“Clan Beruss is and always will be the friend of House Organa,” said Doman. “That will not change in my lifetime, or yours.”
“Then withdraw the summons.”
Doman gestured in the air. “I will gladly do so—on your promise that you will not carry the war to N’zoth to rescue a loved one or avenge a casualty. Can you give me that promise?”
“Are you asking me to give Han up? I can’t believe that you could call yourself my friend and ask me to do that.”
With an easy grace, Doman lowered himself back into his chair. “Two other men suffered the same fate as Han—be it capture or death. Do you care as much for their return as you do for his?”
“What an absurd question,” Leia snapped. “Han is my husband, the father of my children. I’m sorry for the others, and I want them all safely returned. But I won’t sit here and pretend that they mean as much to me as Han does.”
“You need not pretend here,” Doman said. “But can you sit in the office of the President of the Senate of the New Republic and pretend so convincingly that nothing you do shatters the illusion? Because unless you’re ready to give all three lives equal weight—whether much or none—I do not believe you should sit in that office.”
“You don’t understand how it is for us,” Leia said. “Look at this room—you may have your favorites, but no one spouse is everything to you, the way Han is to me.”
“That has always seemed to me a weakness of the way you choose to live,” Doman said.
“We can argue that another day,” Leia said. “The point is that you can’t understand what it would mean to me to lose him.”
Shaking his head, Doman settled back into his chair. “Leia, I’ve watched your kind for nearly a hundred years now, and I’ve seen the lengths to which passion drives you. A man in love will move mountains to protect the woman who owns his heart. A woman in love will sacrifice all else for the man she has chosen. To us, it seems a grand folly—but I do understand, Leia, or I would not be afraid of your passion for Han.”
“Afraid?”
“Afraid that you would sacrifice what does not belong to you—the peace we’ve struggled toward. The lives of the thousands who would fight at your order, and the millions they might kill. Even the future of the New Republic itself. None of this is beyond human passion, Leia. You know that as well as I.”
“Do you think that nothing matters more to me than Han? Do you think I’m that out of control?”
“Dear child, I cannot sit by and trust to reason when reason loses so many battles to passion,” Doman said. “Give me the promise I’ve asked you for, and I will withdraw the summons. I know you’ll honor your word.”
“You want me to limit my options before I even know why the Yevetha did this,” Leia said with the heat of indignation. “You can’t ask that of me. It’s not time yet to decide how to respond.”
“And when do you think that time will come?”
“I haven’t even had a chance to go over all the possibilities—Rieekan won’t have a report to me for another few hours, and I don’t expect to hear any more from A’baht until tonight, after the investigators report from the site of the ambush. Drayson’s asked me for thirty hours, and Fleet Intelligence isn’t making me any promises at all.”
“When do you expect to receive Minister Falanthas’s report?”
Leia shot Doman a puzzled look. “What?”
“Don’t you intend to involve the minister of state? Or are only military options under consideration?”
“Haven’t the Yevetha already set the ground rules? Aren’t Han, Captain Sreas, and Lieutenant Barth prisoners of war?”
“If they are not already casualties of