[Legacy Of The Force] - 02(121)

“Where’s Niathal got to, by the way?”

Jacen looked up. “She’s on her way. She’s being briefed by the commanders.”

The blockade was biting. Corellia could feed itself, but for everything manufactured it relied on its orbiting industrial stations, which were now mostly cut off by Alliance pickets. It was also losing starfighters and ships: without the repair and refueling facilities in the orbiting shipyards, which had also been successfully isolated, its fleets were seriously compromised.

Jacen considered how he would get Ailyn Habuur’s body to Corellia. He could beat a blockade alone. No, it was Ailyn Vel. So you killed Fett’s daughter. He has a Mandalorian army that could take on the Yuuzhan Vong. Avoid him for as long as you can. If Fett were placated, his parents could at least live on Corellia without looking over their shoulders the whole time. He considered explaining to Fett that he hadn’t planned to kill Ailyn, but Fett probably didn’t know exactly who had killed her, and it was better for everyone to leave it that way. There was no point adding more enemies to the list.

He’s Mandalorian, remember. Long memories, short fuses.

“Are you with us, Jacen?” Luke asked.

Jacen jerked back to the here and now, caught unawares for once. “Apologies. Just considering logistics.”

“The Jedi council feels that we should open formal talks with the new Corellian government and offer them a way out.”

“They’ll turn it down.”

“Nothing’s lost by offering,” said Luke. “Do we need Senate agreement to do that?”

“Technically,” Omas replied. “But seeing as over a hundred planets have withdrawn their representatives in protest now, I think we can assume that those left wouldn’t object if we did.”

Luke seemed to be optimistic about the prospects of a breakthrough even if his expression was grim. “Why would Gejjen and his cronies want to remove Thrackan if they didn’t want a change of policy?”

“No better time to remove a rival than under the cover of war,” said Jacen. “It probably has nothing to do with disarmament, and everything to do with old, festering resentments.”

“Sometimes I’m glad I’m a simple farmboy,” said Luke.

“And the Alliance isn’t formally at war with anyone, Uncle.”

“Oh, that makes all the difference, then. Because a growing number of planets seem to think they’re at war with the Alliance.”

Omas interrupted Luke. “Gentlemen, if the new Corellian administration refuses to disarm, then we have no choice but to formalize a state of war. That changes the legality of the situation and gives us different laws to deal with matters.”

“More powers.” Luke’s voice was almost a whisper.

“More emergency powers,” said Omas.

G’Sil glanced at Luke with a benign smile that did nothing to conceal from Jacen that the Senator was thinking … weakling.

“I’m not a great student of history,” said Luke. “But I think we’ve been here before somehow. Before I was born, of course.”

“Do you have an alternative?” Omas asked. “I really would welcome the Jedi council’s views if there’s a concrete course I can pursue. But right now I have three broad options: to allow Alliance planets to maintain their own independent defense forces, to continue as we’re going, or to mount a much more aggressive campaign to force disarmament. If you have another option, now is the time to put it forward.”

Luke shook his head. “You know I haven’t. But I can’t sit here and not express my unease, either.”

Jacen turned his head and caught G’Sil’s eye for a fraction of a second, and knew that they were thinking exactly the same thing. Well, your conscience is clear, Uncle. It’s someone else’s responsibility now, isn’t it?

Omas stood up and began collecting flimsi sheets from his desk. It was the diplomatic way he indicated to any meeting that the talking was over and now he was going to do something. Jacen wondered if Omas ever slammed his fist on that beautiful inlaid desk. He doubted it.

“I’m going to make a formal approach now to the new Corellian administration and offer them talks on disarmament,” Omas said. “Maybe we’ll all get a surprise. Maybe the blockade made them see sense.”

Jacen genuinely hoped it had. He wanted to see order restored, and he didn’t enjoy being despised by his uncle. He turned to Luke to at least take his leave of him courteously, but Luke walked past him with a formal nod of the head and left.

Yes, it hurt. But a lot of things would hurt. Jacen accepted it as part of the price he was paying. He opened his comlink and called C-3P0.