[Legacy Of The Force] - 02(2)

Jacen’s smile faded for a moment and he glanced toward the doors of Omas’s office, looking as if he was willing the head of the Galactic Alliance to finish his meeting and come out. Ben began to pick up what had caught Jacen’s attention: there was a definite sense of conflict, of people arguing, and it was almost as clear as hearing it if you knew how to listen in the Force. Ben did now. Jacen was a good teacher.

Ben concentrated on Jacen’s face. He looked a lot older lately. Sometimes he looked almost as old as Dad. “What’s happening?”

“Heavyweight politics,” said Jacen, barely audible.

He put his fingers almost to his lips, a very discreet gesture; it wasn’t obvious to anyone else-anyone else in this case being only the aide at the desk outside Omas’s grand double doors-but Ben took the hint. Be quiet.

He was suddenly worried about letting Jacen down. Chief Omas wasn’t a stranger; the man knew his father, and Ben had been brought to meet him at a state celebration. Pretty much all Ben remembered of that affair was feeling very small in a sea of tall people having conversations he didn’t understand. But Ben wanted to be seen as Jacen’s apprentice, not as Luke Skywalker’s son, the heir to the dynasty as one of the guests had called him. It was hard being the son of two Jedi Masters whom everyone referred to as “legends.” Ben had lost count of the times he had felt invisible.

“Chief Omas won’t keep you, Jedi Solo,” said the aide, tilting her head slightly toward the closed doors of Omas’s office itself. “He’s with Admiral Niathal at the moment.”

I’m invisible again, thought Ben.

He composed himself and sat down with his hands folded in his lap, a mirror of Jacen’s own posture. He tried to count the number of different species of animal depicted on the huge tapestry that covered part of the wall opposite. What he had first thought was just a mass of random color was actually thousands of overlapping images of every animal he could imagine from across the galaxy-across the whole Galactic Alliance.

Eventually the doors parted and Niathal strode out, radiating annoyance. Chief Omas appeared in the doorway behind her and forced a smile. “Ah, Jacen,” he said. “I’m sorry to keep you. Won’t you come in? And Ben. I’m glad you could make it, too.”

Niathal glanced at Jacen as if she didn’t recognize him. He acknowledged her with a slight bow of his head.

“Admiral,” he said, smiling. “A pleasure to see you.”

Niathal turned a little more to the side, the equivalent of a very frank stare for a Mon Calamari, a species with side-set eyes, and scrutinized both of them. “You did a very fine job at Centerpoint Station, sir. And you, young man.”

My name’s Ben. But he had learned a little diplomacy now. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Omas beckoned Jacen forward, and Ben followed meekly. Omas did not make the tired comment that Ben had grown since he’d last seen him; nor did he look past him when he was talking to Jacen. The Chief met his eyes. It was both unsettling and exciting to be treated as an adult. Ben concentrated hard on what was being said.

Omas sat behind his desk rather than in the chair opposite them, as if he were taking cover. “So what brings you here, Jacen?”

“I have a proposal.”

“Go ahead.”

“Crippling Centerpoint Station only bought us time with Corellia. We might have a few months at most before it’s operational again, and then we’re back where we began but with a much more aggrieved Corellia that’s gathering more support.”

“Is this an extrapolation from what you see in the Force, Jacen?”

“No, it’s just obvious to the point of inevitability.”

Ben felt Omas teeter on the edge of reacting. It was as if the two men were having an argument without any sign of it in their words or their voices.

“Go on,” said Omas.

“Now is the only time we’ll have for preemptive action, before any real opposition to the Galactic Alliance has a chance to organize. Corellia, Commenor, and Chasin need complete dissuasion, very public dissuasion to make a point to other governments about the need for unity-and a complete neutralization of their capacity to fight a war. The destruction of their shipyards.”

Ben was glad Jacen had said destruction. It was the first clue he’d had of what dissuasion actually meant.

“This,” said Omas slowly, “is not unlike another conversation I’ve just had.”

The way he said conversation made it clear what he’d been arguing about with Niathal. So she wanted to take action, exactly as Jacen did. “We’ve slapped Corellia and made a martyr to a cause,” said Jacen. “An armed martyr to an armed cause.”