Leia shook her head. “I don’t believe that for a moment.”
“Neither do I,” Mara said.
Karrde grimaced. “No. Neither do I.”
CHAPTER
4
He laid it out for them; all of it, in complete and painful detail. And when he had finished, they were, as he’d expected, outraged.
“You must be joking, Admiral Pellaeon,” Moff Andray said, his voice icy.
“I agree,” Moff Bemos said, fingering the massive codoran ring on his finger. “We are the Empire, Admiral. The Empire does not surrender.”
“Then the Empire dies,” Pellaeon said bluntly. “I’m sorry, Your Excellencies, but that is the end line of all this. The Empire is beaten. With a negotiated peace treaty, we can at least-“
“I’ve heard enough,” Moff Hort spat, sweeping his datacards off the table into his hand with a grand gesture and pushing back his chair. “I have important business waiting for me back at my sector.”
“As do I,” Moff Quillan joined in, standing up with him. “If you ask me, a man like this has no business leading our military forces-“
“Sit down,” a quiet voice ordered. “Both of you.”
Pellaeon focused on the man who’d spoken, seated at the far end of the table from him. He was short and slender, with receding silver hair, piercing yellow-flecked blue eyes, and clawlike hands that were far stronger than they looked. His face was lined with age and bitterness, his mouth twisted with cruelty and smoldering ambition.
He was Moff Disra. Chief administrator of Braxant sector, ruler of the new Imperial capital planet code-named Bastion, and their host here in the conference room of his palace. And of all the eight remaining Moffs, the one Pellaeon trusted the least.
Quilan and Hort were looking at Disra, too, their intended grand exit suddenly faltering into uncertainty. Hort made as if to speak; then, silently, both of them resumed their seats.
“Thank you.” Disra shifted his gaze to Pellaeon. “Please continue, Admiral.”
“Thank you, Your Excellency.” Pellaeon looked around the table. “I don’t blame any of you for being upset with my recommendation. I don’t make it lightly. But I see no other way. With a negotiated treaty, we can at least hold on to the territory we still have. Without one, we will certainly be destroyed.”
“Can we hold on to our territory, though?” Moff Edan asked. “The New Republic has perpetuated the lie that we rule by terror and force. Won’t they insist on our destruction, treaty or not?”
“I don’t think so,” Pellaeon said. “I believe we can convince even the most rabid of them that the worlds currently under Imperial rule remain with us by their own choice.”
“Not all of them do,” Moff Sander rumbled. “Some in my sector would leave in a moment if offered the choice.”
“Certainly. we’ll lose some systems,” Pellaeon said. “But on the opposite side, there are undoubtedly systems currently within New Republic borders whose inhabitants would prefer to live under Imperial law if given that same choice. As matters stand, there’s nothing we can do about such systems-we don’t have the ships or manpower necessary to defend them, nor could we maintain supply routes to them. But under a peace treaty such systems could be invited to rejoin.”
Quillan snorted under his breath. “Ridiculous. Do you really believe the New Republic would just meekly release their stolen systems back to us?”
“On the contrary, Quillan: they’d have no choice in the matter,” Moff Vered put in dryly. “Their sole claim to authority is that the systems of the New Republic willingly accept their authority. How could they then turn around and forbid systems to renounce that authority?”
“Exactly,” Pellaeon said, nodding. “Especially with all the small conflicts that have flared up recently. Forbidding systems to leave the New Republic would be handing us a major propaganda weapon. The Almania incident is certainly still fresh enough in their minds.”
“Still, if things are so unstable there, why do we need to do anything at all?” Bemos suggested. “If we bide our time, there’s a fair chance the New Republic will disintegrate on its own.”
“I’d say the chances are better than just fair,” Andrey said. “That was the whole philosophic basis for the Emperor’s New Order in the first place. Alone of all those in the Imperial Senate, he understood that so many diverse species and cultures could never live together without a strong hand governing them.”
“I agree,” Pellaeon said. “But at this point the argument is irrelevant. The New Republic’s self-annihilation could take decades; and long before they destroyed themselves’ they would have made sure to grind the remnants of the Empire to dust.” He lifted his eyebrows. “All of us, needless to say, would be dead. Killed in battle, or else executed under their current concept of justice.”