Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [25]
Atop the stairs to Gaeriel’s left, Governor Nereus’s massive, purple-cushioned repulsor chair sat empty. The Senate, declining in power every year, awaited Nereus’s convenience.
Down the steps from Governor Nereus’s chair, a pair of tables lay on Gaeriel’s long middle level; on a third, lowest level, two inner tables framed an open space. Orn Belden, senior senator, shook his finger across the low central table. “Don’t you see?” Belden creaked at Senator Govia. “Compared to systems the Emperor truly wants to control, our ships and facilities are … well, the ships are older than I am, and the facilities are undermanned. As for staff, we’re a dumping ground—”
“All rise,” barked a voice near the chamber’s door. A warden in ancient-style violet doublet and hose thumped a spear’s butt on carpeted flooring. Gaeri slipped her shoes back on and stood with thirty-nine other senators. Only the Imperial Guards saluted. She hoped this session didn’t mean more taxes. Not now, with the Ssi-ruuk threatening.
Imperial Governor Wilek Nereus strode in, flanked by four black-helmeted naval troopers. They reminded her of leggy beetles. Governor Nereus wore a specially designed uniform, heavy on braid and gold piping, its short coat cut to create an illusion of taper from his shoulders to his waist—and skintight black gloves that had given him a reputation for being fastidious. His features were heavy except for prissy lips, and he had the Imperial swagger down to a science. “Sit,” he said.
Gaeri smoothed her long blue skirt and sat down. Governor Nereus remained standing near the entry. Taller than any of them, he used his height to intimidate. She’d always disliked him, but her year on Imperial Center had made him slightly more tolerable—by comparison.
“I won’t keep you,” he said, looking down his long nose. “I realize you are busy keeping your sectors pacified. Some of you are doing well. Some aren’t.”
Gaeri frowned. Her district’s residents were abandoning their jobs to dig shelters, but at least bunker-blasting was productive. She glanced at her uncle, Prime Minister Yeorg Captison. Here in Salis D’aar, Captison had been quelling riots, using Bakuran police to keep Nereus from sending out stormtroopers from the garrison.
Nereus raised a gloved hand to silence murmurers. Once he had their attention, he slowly turned his head and cleared his throat. “Rebel Alliance ships have arrived in the Bakura system.”
That gave her a rain-cold shock. Rebels? The Empire allowed no dissent. After Bakura entered the Empire three years ago, two minor rebellions had been efficiently quashed. Gaeri remembered too much of that period. Both of her parents had died, caught in the wrong place during a running battle between insurgents and Imperial troops. That was when she’d gone to live with her uncle and aunt. She didn’t hope to live to see another uprising, or any more of the bloody purges that followed.
Perhaps these troublemakers wanted the repulsorlift component factory in Belden’s district. Could Nereus’s forces protect Bakura from Rebel raiders and the Ssi-ruuk?
Nereus cleared his throat. “The Dominant, our only remaining cruiser, sustained heavy damages. On the advice of my staff, I have ordered our forces to withdraw from the main battle and protect Bakura itself. I request your confirmation of that order.”
Belden straightened his back and fiddled with a voice amplifier on his chest. “Covering your tracks, Governor? So if anything else goes wrong, you can finger us? Who’s keeping the Ssi-ruuk off, I wonder?”
It wasn’t wise to attract an Imperial Governor’s attention, but Belden seemed fearless. Maybe if Gaeri were 164, with a second prosthetic heart and one foot in the grave, she’d learn his kind of courage.
Abruptly distracted, she checked the time. She had promised Senator Belden that she’d visit his elderly wife this evening. Madam Belden’s caregiver Clis left for the night at 2030, and Gaeri had offered to sit with her until Senator Belden finished a committee meeting. Fiery little Eppie