Free Rebel Stand: Enemy Lines II by Aaron Allston Page A

situation where it might elect an appeaser to rule the government, which means the day after that the Yuuzhan Vong have another ally in their war on us.”
    “That’s right.”
    “So I expect you’ll want to stay for a few days.”
    “That’s right.”
    “And fire a political concussion missile right into the campaign plans of your friend.”
    Leia nodded, her expression regretful. “Addath is not my friend. She’s just a politician whose skills I respect. I don’t owe her any ill will. But this is business, and it’s obvious that our interests have gone their separate ways … probably forever. We can’t let her win, Han. The only question is whether we can let this Admiral Werl win, either.”
    Han couldn’t keep a grin from his face. “Election rigging is illegal, you know. Not entirely suited to a law-abiding politician from a good family.”
    Leia’s smile matched his. “I’m not a politician anymore, Han. I’m just pretending to be one. I’ve come over to the scoundrel side of the Force.”
    Han waited for a break in the recorded dialogue issuing from R2-D2, then scowled at the droids. “Hey, you two. Go take a walk. Give a couple of scoundrels some privacy here.”
Borleias
    “You’re the nosebleed guy, aren’t you?”
    The voice came from the other side of the blue sheet separating Tam’s bed from the next one to his left. It was a boy’s voice.
    “The ‘nosebleed guy’?”
    A small hand pulled the sheet partway aside and Tam could see the speaker, a boy of perhaps twelve, brown-haired, blue-eyed, with a cleanly chiseled dimple in his chin giving him a surprisingly adult look. “They say that the scarheads did awful things to you and when you didn’t do what they wanted, it made you bleed so bad from your nose you almost died.”
    “Well, it’s not as simple as that.” Tam shrugged, surprised that he wasn’t annoyed by the boy’s prying. “What they did to me makes my head hurt when I refuse. My head hurts, my blood pressure goes as high as if my body were a compression chamber. That can give me really bad nosebleeds. But the pain is the more dangerous part.”
    “That’s why you have to wear the stupid helmet?”
    “That’s why I have to wear the stupid helmet.” Tam extended his hand. “I’m Tam.”
    The boy took it. “I’m Tarc. It’s not my real name. That’s just what everybody calls me. Nobody calls me Dab anymore.”
    “What are you in here for, Tarc?”
    “You know the other day, when the scarheads made their big attack, and
Lusankya
bombarded their guts out?”
    “I know
about
it. I fell unconscious just as it was starting.”
    “Well, they got close enough to shoot at the main building, and some plasma stuff burned through the shields and the wall where I was, and some of it splashed on me. My leg got burned.” Tarc whipped his sheet off, displaying the bandage on his right calf. “But I get out today.” His tone suggested that he was making a break from prison rather than leaving a hospital.
    “I get out—well, I guess I can leave whenever I want.”
    “Then what are you doing here?”
    “No place to go, I guess. No one trusts me. Anyone who does, shouldn’t.” Tam leaned back, grimacing at the painful reality of those words.
    “But you fought back! You won. That’s what everyone says.”
    “I should have fought back from the start. I should have let it kill me before I did anything bad.”
    Tarc looked at him, wide-eyed, and then his expression turned to one of scorn. “Does everybody just get stupid when they grow up?”
    “What?”
    “You heard me. That’s a stupid thing to say.”
    “Tarc, listen. I’m just some guy who was of no use to anybody, and then the Yuuzhan Vong grabbed me, chewed me up, and spat me out in one of their plots.”
    “Yeah, me too.”
    Tam gave him a closer look. “Huh?”
    “Me, too. The Yuuzhan Vong grabbed me, chewed me up, and spat me out, just like you said.” Tarc leaned back, his weary posture an