[Legacy Of The Force] - 02(122)

“Threepio?” The droid, at least, always greeted him as if he was pleased to hear from him. “Has Artoo finished repairing the Falcon? Tell him to hurry up, then. I’m flying her back to Dad.”





Chapter Twenty-One


The Galactic Alliance has offered settlement terms to the new government of Corellia. We hope that those terms will be accepted and that we can put an end to the blockade. We do not want war. This is our last chance for unity.

-Chief of State Cal Omas, speaking at a news conference

CORONET CITY. SPACEPORT.

Fett occupied himself with carrying out panel checks on Slave I and tried not to think about the fact that he had lost a daughter and acquired a granddaughter in a matter of a day.

This was why it made sense to live alone. Families, wives, and kids were painful. They got in the way.

Mirta was, as far as he knew or cared, still at the Solos’ apartment. How had she fooled him for so long? He couldn’t believe he hadn’t worked out who she was. But if you hadn’t seen your daughter for more than fifty years, there was no reason to recognize her daughter.

You have a family. Like it or not, you have a family.

She might have had more than one child. What would he do about that, then? What if he had more grandchildren out there, all raised to hate him as thoroughly and efficiently as Mirta had been? No, he should have spotted it right away. When he looked into her dark eyes, he could see his father now. He could see his own eyes.

He could see his own hatred, too. He resented the galaxy, and Jedi in particular, for having to grow up without a father. It wasn’t surprising to see that hate and resentment reproduced faithfully in a granddaughter.

Now he waited for Goran Beviin to shake down his network of contacts and tell him what Leia and Han Solo either didn’t know or didn’t want to tell him.

“Mand’alor,” said the comlink.

Fett pounced on it. “Beviin? What have you got for me?”

“I’m very sorry about Ailyn, Bob’ika.”

I don’t want your sympathy. “I need intel.”

“Ailyn was being held by Jacen Solo.”

“I know that. But who was interrogating her?”

“Like I said-Jacen Solo.”

I’ll kill him. Fett felt his stomach settle into that cold place of detachment that preceded a strike. His thoughts fell immediately to the best weapons and strategies to add another Jedi lightsaber to his collection, the first that he would truly savor and not regard as just another job. No, remember what Dad taught you-stay professional. Stay cool. Understand the enemy.

“This had better be accurate.”

“Mand’alor,” said Beviin, “this comes from the Coruscant Security Force. Some still think well of Mandalorians, thanks to your father’s friends.”

“I’m touched.”

“You should be. The CSF bar is full of gossip about Jacen Solo, because some of his Galactic Alliance Guard are ex CSF men. Some of them really don’t like his way of doing business.”

Fett had taken little notice of Coruscant’s descent into martial law yet again. He’d seen it all before. But now it was personal.

“I want to know everything.”

“Jacen Solo is a regular little chakaar.”

“I take it that’s bad.”

“He uses Jedi techniques that don’t quite fit their peace-and-justice image. Apparently one of his officers was complaining that he uses the Force to beat answers out of prisoners without laying a finger on them.”

Something went ping in Fett’s memory. “Go on.”

“They say he killed Ailyn with the power of his mind.” Beviin swallowed audibly. “Just say the word, and we’ll find him.”

Jedi. Arrogant, power-hungry barves who don’t care who they trample over. Nothing changes. “Not necessary.”

“You’re going to go after him yourself, then?”

“Ailyn was a bounty hunter. She knew the risks.”

“Bob’ika, you can’t mean that…”

I ought to, but I don’t. It hurts. It doesn’t hurt as bad as losing Dad, but it hurts somehow. “Forget Jacen Solo. Leave him to me.”

“He’s a real piece of work. Word is that he ordered his twin sister to fire on a civilian vessel, and when she refused, he suspended her from duty. What a lovely, happy little family the Solos must be.”

Ah. I think I know where this is going. “What else? Anything, no matter how trivial it seems to you.”

“He doesn’t even wear Jedi robes now. He struts around in a black uniform. Luke Skywalker’s boy is his minion. That really upsets the CSF boys. The kid’s thirteen.”

“He’s a grown man, then.”