Star Wars_ The New Rebellion - Kristine Kathryn Rusch [196]
There was something in her tone of voice in that last answer that gave Han pause. As if she were talking about something more than planetary tradition, and something a lot closer to home. The trouble was, he had no idea what. Did the NRI know things about Han’s own past that Han did not? Han looked her straight in those strange eyes of hers, and decided that he did not want to ask. “If I understand what you’re saying,” he said, “you believe the job you are asking me to do will not make Corellia any more dangerous for my children. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” Kalenda said.
That didn’t satisfy Han. He had the feeling that “yes” was a true answer, if not a complete one.
“All right, then,” he said. “Now, this next question I am asking as a father, as a Corellian who believes it is dishonorable to involve the innocent. Would it be dangerous to take my children to Corellia?”
Kalenda slumped back and sighed. All the surface smugness went out of her, and Han could see doubt and uncertainty. It was as if the NRI agent had suddenly vanished and the person behind was appearing. “I give up being careful. Not when you put it that way. But I wish to the dark suns you hadn’t asked me that,” she said. “I honestly don’t know. We simply don’t know what’s going on out there. That’s why we need to do anything we can to get agents in place so we can find out. But there are children on Corellia right now. Are they in danger? Is Corellia a riskier place than Coruscant? Almost certainly, though by how much I couldn’t say. On the other hand, travel all by itself is more dangerous than staying home. Maybe you should never travel at all. If avoiding all risk is your only concern, take your children and hide them away in a cave, just to be sure. But is that the way you want to live?”
Han looked deep into those strange eyes that seemed to see things that were not there. In his old days, his reckless days, he wouldn’t even have thought twice about flying straight into the worst sort of danger. But fatherhood did things to a fellow. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want to endanger his kids. It went beyond that. He didn’t want to endanger himself needlessly either. Not for fear of death on his own part—but the thought of leaving his children without a father—it was something he had to work into the equation.
But suppose he did put his children in a cave, and put a round-the-clock guard on them. And suppose there was an underground rock slide? Or what if he did manage to protect them from all danger? What sort of life would they have? And how could they be expected to deal with a world full of risk and danger as adults if they had never faced them growing up?
There were no good answers, no certainties. Risk was a part of life, and you had to take a slice of it along with everything else. But there were questions of honor, and duty, as well. If there was trouble back home, in the sector that had given him birth, what sort of man would he be if he could help and did not?
There was yet another factor. Leia was, after all, the Chief of State. She had been getting intelligence reports about Corellia. She had to know about the situation. Very probably she even knew the specific fact that the NRI had agents gone missing. Yet she was willing to bring her children along. And that was good enough for Han.
“Thank you,” Han said. “I always appreciate a straight answer. But we’ll be going to Corellia—and I’ll do what I can to act suspiciously. I have a feeling it will fit in with my natural talents.”
“Officially, I’m glad to hear that,” Kalenda said. “But unofficially—very unofficially—I wouldn’t blame you if you decided not to go at all.”
“We go,” Han said. “We’re not going to be scared away from living our life.”
“Just