“But Corellia has seen what we’re made of, and that’ll make them think twice.”
“And we’ve now seen what they’re made of,” said Jacen. “And I have thought twice. If you give me command of a battle group, I can destroy the main shipyards and put an end to this now. If Corellia can be brought to heel, it sends the message that no single planet is bigger than the Alliance.”
“You’re asking me to declare war, Jacen, and that’s something I’d never get Senate backing to do. And I know where the Jedi council stands on this.”
“War’s coming anyway. If you draw a weapon on a Corellian, you’d better be prepared to use it. We drew it when we took out Centerpoint.”
Omas was doing a good job of disguising his fear, but Ben could feel it. It didn’t feel as if he was afraid of Jacen; it was more a vague and formless dread, as if events were drowning him.
“Talking of Corellians, would this attack not drive a huge wedge between you and your father?”
“It might well,” said Jacen. “But I’m a Jedi, and it’s precisely that kind of personal motivation we’re trained to disregard.”
“I’ll take it under advisement.”
“I’ll take that as a no.” Jacen seemed perfectly calm. “I can tell you, with the certainty of the Force, that failing to stamp out dissent completely now will result in the deaths of billions in the coming years. We stand on a tipping point where we can choose chaos or order.”
Omas meshed his fingers, hands on the desk, and stared at them. “I agree we have a volatile situation here. Yes, this is a tipping point. But I think that escalating military action will be what tips us over into war, not what limits it. I remember the Empire, Jacen. I lived through it. And I dread seeing us become that kind of government.”
Jacen just gave Omas a little nod and stood up to leave. “Thank you for listening to my concerns.”
They took the long walk back to the Senate lobby, down a broad corridor lined with blue and honey-gold marble inlay, and traveled down to the ground floor in a turbolift with walls so highly polished they were almost an amber mirror.
“Is politics always like that?” said Ben. “Why don’t you both say what you mean?”
Jacen laughed. “Then it wouldn’t be politics, would it?”
“And why does everyone keep saying, ‘Oh, I remember the Empire …’? Uncle Han says it was bad, and so does Chief Omas. If they’re both afraid of the same thing, why are they on opposite sides?”
Jacen seemed to find it very funny. Ben was embarrassed.
“I was only asking, Jacen.”
“I’m not laughing at you. It’s just very refreshing to hear someone cut through the nonsense and ask real questions.”
“So what are you going to do next?”
Jacen checked his comlink. “Dad’s still not responding. I need to clear the air with him. He’s angry about Centerpoint.”
“I meant about Chief Omas.”
“We’ll be patient. The solution will become clear-to both of us.”
“You and Omas.”
“No, you and me.”
Ben was delighted that Jacen seemed to take his opinions seriously. He was more determined than ever to conduct himself like a man and not a boy. He knew now that he would never play again.
They crossed through the forest of pillars of the Senate lobby and emerged into the hazy sunshine that bathed the plaza.
Strung out in a ragged line, a group of around two hundred people had gathered to protest in front of the Senate Building. Dozens of Coruscant Security Force officers had formed a loose line in front of the building, but it looked peaceful. The occasional shout of “Corellia’s not your colony!” made it clear who the protesters were. Coruscant was home to beings from almost every planet in the galaxy, and even when war seemed to be coming, they stayed here. Ben found that … odd. Wars were about front lines and distant planets, not about people who looked a lot like him and who almost lived next door.
“Something tells me we’d better not stop and sign autographs,” said Ben.
Jacen stopped to look back at the protest. “How many Corellians do you think live in Galactic City?” One of the protestors in the crowd had projected a huge holoimage onto the face of the Senate Building: it read CORELLIA HAS A RIGHT TO SELF-DEFENSE. “Five million? Five billion?”
“Do you think they’re dangerous?”
“I’m simply thinking what a complicated war this will be for Coruscant because so many Corellians live here.”
“But we’re not at war. Yet.”
“Not as far as governments are concerned,” said Jacen. “But feel what’s around you.”