"I thank you for your faithful service," said Kuat of Kuat." It means a great deal to me."
"If it eases the Technician's mind, then it's worth it." The Kuat Drive Yards security head stood with his hands clasped behind his back. The glow of true belief, as inherited as his superior's title, was evident in his eyes." But the time of its use will never come; that is what I believe. Our enemies conspire in vain; Kuat Drive Yards will yet endure."
"Your confidence is also appreciated." Kuat wished he could be as sure. For there was more than just the Emperor and his endless machinations to worry about. The Rebellion had complicated everything, as though the gameboard had been transformed from two dimensions to three. Kuat Drive Yards owed no allegiance to anything but itself, harbored no great ideals other than its own survival and independence, a state within whatever larger state prevailed beyond the corporation. If that other, encompassing state were the old Republic, the Empire that had overthrown it, or whatever vision of universal freedom that the Rebel Alliance wished to bring about-that meant nothing to Kuat of Kuat. Eventually, one side or the other would win out; if it was Emperor Palpatine, or Leia Organa and Luke Skywalker and the forces for which they had become both symbols and leaders, all that Kuat wished to make sure of was that Kuat Drive Yards was on a friendly-or at least neutral-basis with the victors. Whoever won, there would be a need afterward for cruisers and destroyers, and all the other fearsome equipage of interplanetary warfare.
"The Rebellion. . ." Kuat of Kuat mused aloud once more, voicing the deep currents of his thoughts." Even if the Rebel Alliance is able to establish a new Republic-one with greater justice and harmony among the galaxy's sentient creatures than had prevailed before-certain aspects of human and nonhuman nature still would not change."
"Such is wisdom, Technician."
He and his head of security had discussed these things in the past. Mere greed and all the cascading layers of misunderstanding would be enough to dictate the presence of some kind of order-keeping force. And that meant armaments, and the ability to deliver their firepower across vast distances. The much-vaunted Death Star hadn't been a Kuat Drive Yards project
Kuat of Kuat himself had forbade the organization even making a bid on any of its subsystems-but the reasoning behind it had been understandable.
"Not just wisdom," said Kuat." But cunning." He repeated one of the lessons he had received from his own father, the Kuat of Kuat before him:" Force and terror accomplish what reason and understanding cannot."
The Kuat family had been in that business a long time, supplying the instruments of force and terror. His reluctance to get involved with any aspect of the Death Star's construction hadn't been based on a moral objection, but purely practical. Kuat Drive Yards' wealth and power came from building warships, and the Death Star, if it had succeeded in the Imperial admirals' purposes, would have wiped out much of the need for such expensive-and profitable-craft. A stupid creature fouls its own nest; only a suicidal one helps destroy it. With relief, and a measure of vindication, Kuat of Kuat had heard of the Death Star's own destruction at the Battle of Yavin. For the Empire to begin constructing an even bigger Death Star only meant that the admirals hadn't learned their lesson. Speed was not so important as maneuverability; the Death Star's hyperspace capabilities had not been enough to outweigh other elements of military force, such as numerical superiority. No Death Star could be made so powerful and impervious to attack as to outweigh the loss of those factors.
The security head displayed a thin, knowing smile." Cunning prevails, Technician, where wisdom is powerless."
"Exactly so." That age-old principle was what kept him from placing the services of Kuat Drive Yards at the Rebel Alliance's disposal. True cunning required cold blood, beyond anything that ran in the veins of any of the galaxy's reptilian species. Kuat had seen ample evidence of that ruthlessness in the Emperor-but what of the Rebels? He had gone over the reports provided by Kuat Drive Yards' own intelligence teams, the compilations of details, facts, rumors, myths, anything that could be found out about the Alliance's leaders, particularly this Luke Skywalker that both the Emperor and his top lieutenant Lord Vader seemed so obsessed with. But Kuat had yet to be able to make a determination about their innermost nature. All that idealism dismayed him; it was precisely that which had brought down the old Republic and allowed Palpatine to come to power. And now, with this talk of Luke Skywalker being a Jedi Knight-what could be more foolish? Kuat's ancestors had seen all that bright parade of honor and dedication, of belief in things greater than that which could be grasped by mortal hands, gradually fade away while the Emperor's power had grown, an eclipse swallowing whole the suns it put into shadow. The mysterious Force that had shaped the Jedi beliefs did not seem able to prevail against those such as Vader, who could turn it to darker use, use that consumed one's spirit even while one's grasp upon the galaxy's fate tightened. Better to trust in machines, Kuat mused, and in the powers that can be seen and felt and measured. That simple cunning had ensured the survival of Kuat Drive Yards. So far. . .
"And yet," murmured Kuat of Kuat." And yet, I would believe. If I could."
"Technician?"
He was aware of the other man peering at him, trying to decipher the meaning of the barely audible words." Pay me no heed." The felinx shifted in the cradle of Kuat's arms, its lustrous green eyes shut, its wordless dreams of satiated appetite and endless
warmth safe for the time being. That was all that mattered, to this small creature at least. It's got things soft, Kuat thought ruefully. If he had only his own desires, his own hopes and fears, to consider, then making the necessary decisions would be considerably easier. But with all of Kuat Drive Yards weighing upon his shoulders, with its fate weighing upon his shoulders, the lives of so many depending upon the moves he made in this game, the alliances he forged between himself and unproven allies, the annihilating hatred of enemies whose powers, revealed or in the shadows, spanned the galaxy. . .
The sleeping felinx stirred in Kuat's arms, as though sensing some wordless measure of his troubles. He stroked its head, soothing the creature back into the unworried sector of its slumbers. I'll take care of you, Kuat promised it. One way or another. Win or lose.
Beside him, Fenald turned away for a moment. The security head pressed his fingertips to his ear, listening intently to the buried whisper of his cochlear implant.
"The report has been decrypted and analyzed, Technician." Fenald dropped his hand from the side of his jaw." Perimeter intelligence stations have confirmation from their sources, with a reliability factor in the high nineties percentile range."
"Very good." Kuat of Kuat had expected as much. He had issued continuing orders that he wasn't to be bothered with rumors and baseless speculation. At this point, only cold, hard facts-the accurate reporting of the moves made by the other players in the game-would help him formulate his own strategies and gambits." And the details?"