“Can you feel him? Is he okay?”
“I can’t feel anything. No sign of him.”
Jacen. Luke knew his nephew could disappear from the Force when he wanted to. Maybe he could mask the presence of others. Ben would be alongside him, he knew that much. And he couldn’t feel Jacen at all.
“Okay, honey. Just checking. I’m on my way home with Jaina.”
He shut the link and looked for another route home. There was no point chasing Ben and having another fight right now. The last time they’d spoken, Ben had seemed close to working things out for himself. Forcing a Jedi to do anything was always of questionable use, even if that Jedi was your little boy.
“You have to get Ben away from Jacen,” said Jaina, unprompted.
“I know,” Luke said. “I’m trying to get him to make that choice for himself. If I force it, I’ll make Jacen a martyr in his eyes.”
“Am I wrong to think this about my own brother?”
“What do your senses tell you?”
“That he’s going to somehow break my heart one day.”
“Yes,” said Luke. “We need to make sure that never happens.”
But it already has, he thought. It already has.
THE SOLOS’ APARTMENT, CORONET, CORELLIA.
“You got to hand it to Gejjen,” said Han. “He must have had all this planned.”
Fett had already worked out a fast exit from the Solos’ shabbily anonymous apartment. From the window he could see the red flashing lights of Corellian Security Force speeders racing across the city: when he checked his bank account-one of them, anyway-he was already one million credits better off. Gejjen certainly paid promptly.
Mirta gave Han a wary look. “Forget Gejjen. Call your son.”
Leia Solo-and despite the decade that had passed since he had last seen her, Fett had still recognized her immediately-had a comlink pressed to one ear. “I’m trying.” She stared at the comlink in exasperation and then snapped it shut. “He’s not answering. Let’s try the Jedi way. That usually gets his attention.”
She clasped her hands in front of her and closed her eyes for a moment. Fett didn’t care for Jedi: they were an aristocracy, winners in a genetic lottery, and there was something about the lack of merit required that rankled with Mandalorians. But for all the lightsaber trophies he kept on display from Jedi bounties, Fett knew they had their uses.
All I care about now is seeing Ailyn. Corellia can burn for all I care.
“You doing some of that Jedi mind stuff?” Mirta demanded.
Leia opened her eyes and didn’t look amused. “I’m reaching out to my son in the Force to make him realize I need to talk to him. He’ll know it’s me.”
On the wall, a holoscreen showed a harassed-looking news anchor relaying the news that the President had been assassinated. The Deputy President, Vol Barad, suitably respectful, paid tribute to Sal-Solo and said that an emergency meeting had been called with leaders of all the political parties to “work out a way forward.”
“First time he’s been allowed out in public since Thrackan came to power,” said Han. “He must think this is his lucky day.”
“Come on, Jacen,” Leia muttered.
Han, fixed on the holoscreen, snorted in contempt. “Oh, here’s our little buddy now . .
Fett turned to see Dur Gejjen being interviewed. He was consummately calm and grim-faced, and spoke of his shock at the news. He was rather convincing: a dangerous young man, Fett decided, and one who’d have a fine political career. He’d eat Han Solo alive. Maybe Leia would be able to handle him.
“He’s talking about a coalition government … ,” Han muttered.
“Dividing the spoils,” said Fett.
“Thrackan must have ticked off more people than I thought. I didn’t realize even his own party hated him that much.”
“Maybe they’ll build a statue to you, Solo.”
“Hey, it’s your happy little partner who whacked him, pal.”
Mirta had started pacing up and down the apartment, now watching both the doors and the windows. Leia opened her comlink. “Try again…”
“Thrackan said there were still other assassins out there,” Han said quietly.
Fett shrugged. “Not now they know he’s dead.”
“You sure?”
“If they’re not going to get paid, why would they want to kill you?”
Han frowned slightly. “I suppose that’s bounty hunter logic.”
Fett wondered if he should point out to Han that he had more to fear from Gejjen and his cronies than from an honest hired killer, but Han should have been able to work that out for himself. Anyone who could hire a hit on a rival politician would have no compunction about doing the same to Han Solo.