Legacy Of The Force_ Revelation Part 38

"So who succeeds Jacen Solo when someone finally drops him down a reactor shaft, come the glorious day? Because it won't be that poisonous little Vong-bait Tahiri-over my dead body. And hers, of course."

Fett didn't like many beings in the galaxy. He was indif-ferent to 99 percent, and most of the remainder were on his target list. But he could manage a sc.r.a.p of approval for Daala. She talked his language.

"You sound like a woman who cares what happens in the Core, "he said.

"If I did-you're the resident Jedi countermeasures expert. Would you be too retired to do some consultancy work for me?"

Fett indicated his forearm plate, a weapons platform in its own right. The flamethrower needed servicing, he noted. "Consult this. I'm always negotiable." "Seriously."

"If you're ever in the position where you need a place to lock up your Jedi-we can do you a good price on bcskar restraints, and we'll always have the troops to make use of them."

"Let's keep that in mind." Daala raised her gla.s.s, and Fett thought she was going to make some informal deal. But she indulged in a little sparing sentimentality, and he approved of that too. "To Gil Pellaeon.

The last of the Empire's true gentlemen. Safe harbor, my friend."

Fett just inclined his head. The galaxy liked its heroes better dead, when they didn't hang around doing inconve-nient things like shaming everyone else and setting glitter-ing examples. Or being fallibly mortal. The worst thought he'd ever had in his life was that if his father had survived, he might not have lived up to the dead paragon that still shaped his every waking moment. It was one of the few missing pieces he didn't want to track down, and he still hadn't found time to shoot the barve who'd planted and watered the doubt in his head.

So what if Jango Fett wasn't the holy Fenn Shysa. He was my dad, he loved me, and I loved him. That's enough of a hero for me.

"I forgot how effective your iron can be against Force-users, "Daala said, dragging him out of his thoughts. "You'd be amazed what ended up at the Maw Installation when the Emperor's closets got cleared out."

Daala never disappointed. She was solid granite, always on the ball, always looking for the angle, even when she could have relaxed her guard. Fett liked being kept sharp.

"I always wondered what the Empire did with the beskar ore they strip-mined out of Mandalore."

"Found they couldn't make it work the way your people could, that's what they did..."

Fett enjoyed the idea of all that beskar needing Man-dalorian expertise.

"Yeah, you need to ask a Mando metalworker, and ask him nicely."

"I'm glad we understand each other, Fett."

"Crystal clear, Daala."

"Mind if I visit your fine but challengingly rustic world?"

"Come and have an ale at Mirta's wedding."

"I've got a son and a granddaughter. Where did the years go?"

Fett almost asked where she'd found time to have a fam-ily. But the way years just collapsed on themselves, and how you woke up one morning to find you were suddenly fifty years older than the last time you checked, reminded him of the looming task of coming clean with Sintas.

"Better go find my tame Jedi, "he said, sliding his un-touched gla.s.s toward her. "Before you give me back our iron to make a box to put her in."

Jaina was pacing the silent hangar, completely in a world of her own, swinging her lightsaber-deactivated-in some drill or other. He wasn't sure if it was unalloyed good news to see her getting on with Mirta or not, but it beat having Mirta rip herself apart dealing with the sister of the man who had killed her mother. Jaina stopped and looked up at Fett on the gantry.

"Come on, "he said, and trotted down the durasteel mesh ladder.

"Time for bounty-hunting cla.s.s."

"Aren't you whacked after today?" she asked.

"No." Fett checked his fibercord line, coiled ready to fire and trap, and flexed his fingers. "If I don't hand you back to the s.p.a.ce b.u.m smarter than I found you, he'll just brag about being my nemesis for another forty years, and then I'll have to shoot him to shut him up."

"Just remember to shoot first..." And she almost grinned. Almost.

Jaina Solo was okay, he thought. And she couldn't help being a Jedi.

Fett thought of a Jedi agent called Kubariet, and won-dered if he had a granddaughter out there somewhere.

"Okay, "he said, waiting for her lunge. "Come and get me, Jedi..."

OFFICE OF THE CHIEF OF STATE, CORUSCANT: FOUR DAYS LATER.

Routine-salaries paid on time, nightly holodramas, pre-dictable prices-was the anesthetic that had kept Cor-uscant docile in Caedus's brief absence. He inhaled the familiar scent of carpet, warm datapad plastoid, and fresh-brewed caf as his office doors sighed apart and he limped to his desk.

I could have shot her, of course.

If the debacle of the Fondor operation had been the Force's patient way of removing Niathal neatly, making her a traitor and Caedus a wounded hero defeated by treach-ery, then he was prepared to concede it was another necessary source of pain. He took off his gloves and laid them on the desk. Shoot her, and people would have called him a despot. Lose ships and personnel, both the destroyed and the stolen, and Caedus could return with some honor, with the same end result. It was all illusion. If Luke Skywalker thought his Fallana.s.si conjuring was fine sleight of hand, he didn't understand the power of presentation.

The new admin droid glided in. "I've prepared a digest of the nonurgent matters that arose during your absence, Chief of State, "it said, placing a neat stack of datapads on the fine desk that used to belong to Cal Omas. "I've taken the liberty of clearing Admiral Niathal's office and transfer-ring all defense business to this department. Two matters for your diary today-the appointment of a new Supreme Commander, and Senator G'Sil would like to see you."

"Oh, I'd forgotten him, "said Caedus. The Senators who were left after so many defections and secessions from the GA seemed to huddle together for comfort, forming pro-tective herds in committees. They talked; droids listened patiently, interpreted creatively, and then just did what Caedus told them to. It was a therapeutic arrangement. Many government departments were now overseen by droids. Caedus liked their efficiency and an absence of am-bitious self-interest. "Does the Security Council still sit?"

"I believe so, Chief of State. Quarterly. Hence the Sena-tor's wish to see you."

"Very well."

"He's waiting for me to summon him."

"Now would be ideal, then. Get it all out of the way. I've got a tight schedule this week."

"I've thinned out the diary a little, sir, "said the droid. "I antic.i.p.ated that you might be tired after the events of the last week."

"Excellent." That really was most impressive. "I appre-ciate your foresight."

"How is Lieutenant Veila?"

"Recovering well, thank you."

Caedus found a cup of caf poured for him-piping hot-and settled at the desk to skim the datapads. The galaxy was calming down. He could feel it. The vista from the window caught his eye and distracted him for a moment; the transparisteel wall of his office was full of Coruscant as it always should have been, canyon towers and orderly skylanes full of patient traffic; jobs, peace, ample food. The vague echoes of the Yuuzhan Vong occupation, visible in some of the alien vegetation and the more recently con-structed buildings that had filled yawning gaps left by destruction, seemed to haunt the citizens no more now than the Lahag Erli occupation of Har Binande, which left the Har worlds full of exquisite architecture that attracted tourists, with no real memory of the suffering and misery inflicted centuries before. There was a point where the past stopped nagging to have a voice in every daily decision, and simply became history.

The droid had collated media coverage of the past week, too. Caedus shuffled through the pads to choose one digest to play on the larger desk screen. He skipped through the battle footage and the studio a.n.a.lysis of who failed and why-irrelevant, all history already-and his eye was caught by a headline from one of the scurrilous gossip holozines, not one focused on the sleazy private lives of emotidrama and holovid stars, but one of the more preten-tiously political versions that mixed satire-really very funny, he had to admit-with real news, savagely written.

JACEN'S GAME OF HAPPY FAMILIES: JOINT GANGSTER OF.

STATE.

Caedus was used to the steady stream of attacks about the removal of Cal Omas and indefinite emergency powers, but it was all talk in the fringe media. Citizens did nothing about it and got on happily with their lives. This story opened with the coup, and went on to list actions against members of his own family-the attempt to court-martial Jaina, the arrest warrant on his parents, and the rift with Luke and the whole Jedi Council. Then there was a refer-ence to the death of "Luke Sywalker's wife on Kavan, at a time when Jacen Solo was away from Coruscant" juxta-posed with the death of Ailyn Vel-dubbed "Fett Junior" - Cal Omas, Dur Gejjen, and a much more direct line about his involvement in an "alleged fatal a.s.sault" on Lieutenant Tebut not being investigated by the fleet or CSF.

Caedus laid his cup down on the desk and read the sum mary again.

He found he was actually upset by it-no, of-fended. Hurt. None of it was actually untrue; he explored his feelings, surprised that he could be stung by such a niinor episode in a turbulent, painful life, just chatter from beings who didn't count and who couldn't affect his destiny.

But that's not how it happened. It wasn't like that.

The report made him look like a common gangster, a thug who had seized power and then went about removing anyone who offended him or stood in his way, like some Hutt crime lord. Caedus wanted to comm the holozine and tell them they'd got it wrong; he was serving the common good. Gangsters were driven by wealth, by l.u.s.t, or by some sick desire to see people cower. He wasn't a criminal. He didn't deal in drugs or rob anyone. He'd done what he had to do, because n.o.body else was willing to tackle the anar-chy, or stand up to the old power elites. Did they think he could change the galaxy by asking people nicely to stop being monsters to each other?

All those things had to be done.

Mara, Lieutenant Tebut-I didn't kill them for personal reasons.

They were part of the path I had to take to be worthy of this office. How can you understand what a Sith has to do? How can you apply laws to us?

Your ordinary laws weren't meant for us.

Who would make the tough choices if they were hide-bound by conventional law? Had anyone protested about Luke Skywalker bringing down Palpatine? The Rebellion broke every law in the book, and killed many people, but citizens were ready to accept that because change was needed.

Caedus was only doing the same thing, and yet he was vilified for it. He was wounded by the blindness around him. Why could they not understand?

He wasn't explaining it clearly enough, perhaps.

He slammed his cup down on the desk and commed the droid. "Tell Senator G'Sil I can't see him today. Tell him we'll reschedule."

The droid's voice was even and patient, not a hint of dis-approval in it. "Sir, he says the Security Council must meet within the next week because it's a legal requirement that they convene a minimum of once every three months, and he must have your input."

Caedus could feel his perspective changing, as if the office was a holoimage being adjusted to monochrome and its depth of field distorted.

His desk appeared to recede into the distance, bleeding color. "Well, if that's all he's worried about, just get the law changed." "Sir?"

"I set that up months ago-the amendment to the Emer-gency Measures Act." Had everyone forgotten how he'd stripped away all this bureaucracy?

Memories were short, it seemed. "The clause I used to change the law and arrest Cat Omas. I can change any law I need to without taking it to the Senate. Just use my administrative powers. Change it. Go on, remove the whole section about any requirement to hold meetings. Simple."

"Yes, sir, "said the droid. Like HM-3, the excellent legal droid who had spotted the loophole for Caedus, he didn't fuss over right and wrong, only what was definably legal. And Caedus decided the law. It was a legitimate govern-ment responsibility, and he was the government. "Oh, and get Captain Shevu in here, please." While Caedus waited for Shevu to arrive, he took deep calming breaths, seeing the color return to the room and its proportions revert to normal. I don't meditate much these days, do I? Action had to be his meditation. He had so much to do. Tahiri would have to shoulder more of the burden. She was a Sith apprentice now, and that meant work.

Caedus had been planning to summon the editor of the holozine to his office and demand a full retraction and a new article explaining the truth of his actions, but the longer he waited, the less pressing it seemed.

Did anyone who mattered read the holozine? Had it started riots?

No. All that really mattered was that the few key people around him understood his burden.

Shevu, for example.

Caedus changed his mind. He wouldn't ask Shevu to send a GAG squad out to arrest the editor and so guaran-tee that the hack would listen to Caedus carefully. It was a tawdry errand for a man who'd done a fine job of keeping Coruscant safe during the last year.

A pot of caf, then, and time to catch up on policy. Cae-dus had missed having Shevu at his right hand during the battle. Valuing loyalty was something his grandfather had understood well, but Caedus was also aware that sub-servience wasn't necessary. A little honest contention was far more important.

The doors opened. Shevu, looking carefully unemotional as always, walked in and stood in front of the desk.

"Welcome back, sir." His quiet dislike was tangible. "Eventful few days."

Caedus gestured to the chair. "Are you surprised about Niathal?"

Shevu sat down. "Not really, sir. Just the timing."

"Better that than trying to oust me while I was off-planet."

"Yes, I can imagine that would have been messy, sir."

He was telling the absolute truth as he saw it. Caedus could feel the solid certainty in him. "Look, "Caedus said, offering him the holozine. Just thinking about the report triggered his anger again. "Look at this ungrateful non-sense."

Shevu looked at it quickly in a way that said he either didn't want to read it, or had already done so, in detail. But he was a former CSF officer. He'd have read it.

"Do you want me to take action, sir?"

"If you'd asked me half an hour ago, I'd have said yes."

"So you'd prefer to forget it. The allegations are pretty strong.... but then it's a satirical holozine known for that kind of lurid story."

"Oh, I'm not disputing the facts, Captain." "Really?" Shevu flared a little in the Force, a white-hot burst of surprise. Caedus realized few of the man's superi-ors could ever have been totally honest with him.

"They would have to prove the accusations if you pressed the issue.

"It's just that they don't seem to understand why I took certain actions. They make me sound like a criminal." Cae-dus clenched his fist in his lap and let out a breath before feeling in control again, back in his own skin and not watching himself from the outside. "They're only saying what I hear crew whispering in the mess-saying that I've killed a lot of people, and that I wasn't on duty when Mara Skywalker was killed, and that they wouldn't put it past me to a.s.sa.s.sinate even my own aunt-like one of those lunatic inbred Irmenu emperors. That's what they say, isn't it?"

Shevu was never one to show apprehension. He sat with his hands clasped in his lap and met Caedus's gaze straight on. "Does that worry you, sir?" "Do you think it should?"

"Well, they seem to have sources within the fleet and other departments."

"I despise disloyalty, too, but is it worth chasing gossip-ing clerks when we have admirals handing battle plans to the Jedi Council?"

"Depends on the effect on morale, sir." "You sound just like Niathal."

"Command is all about harnessing the troops' willing-ness to suspend sensible self-interest and put their lives on the line when everyone else is running the other way. That's morale. You're better placed than anyone to feel what your troops really think of you."

A lesser man would have agreed frantically with a capri-cious superior, afraid of saying the wrong thing, but Shevu wasn't intimidated.

Caedus still sensed wariness, but also a powerful sense of certainty like a permacrete slab. This was a man who knew his own mind and wasn't afraid to stand up and be counted, and as he hadn't fled like Niathal, that meant he was here because he wanted to be on Caedus's team.

He understood justice, too.

"Do you want to know how it happened?" Caedus asked.

Shevu pursed his lips as if embarra.s.sed. "Do you think I need to know? After all, I was involved with Gejjen. It's not like I'm going to be shocked by this."