[Legacy Of The Force] - 02(50)

“You’ll want NRI officers, then.”

“No.” Intelligence hadn’t dealt with the threat up to now, so he had no idea whom he could trust. “This has to be seen as a fresh approach to the problem.”

Omas radiated unease. “We’ve taken a step toward martial law.”

G’Sil interrupted. “But this is technically a Coruscanti matter. It’s not a Senate issue. You have the powers to put a temporary order in place for the planet.”

“But Coruscant isn’t just a planet. It’s the Galactic Alliance, too. So I want full support for this, or things will fall apart when we start applying those special measures, as you like to call them. People tend to lose their nerve when they see force applied.”

“A majority on the SIC would be legitimate authority to implement … special measures.”

“And you can deliver that majority, can you?” said Omas.

“I’ll call a special meeting now. Give me twenty-four hours.”

G’Sil patted Jacen on the shoulder with evident relief and left. Omas, sitting behind his desk with the air of a man in a heavily defended trench, watched Jacen as if expecting him to break bad news.

“May I start assembling the personnel I need now?” Jacen asked. “Then we’ll be ready to move when the authority is given.”

“Very well. Let me speak to Admiral Pellaeon.” Omas opened the comlink set into his desk. It was the same pleekwood and lapis as the desk itself. “And I’ll get Shevu seconded to you.”

“You can explain all this to the Supreme Commander and CSF?”

“I’m very good at being plausible,” said Omas. “But I doubt if CSF is going to object.”

Omas looked as if he was going to add something, and Jacen was almost certain of what it would be: Pellaeon would resign if this was forced on him.

That was what Jacen was thinking, too. When Niathal took over the defense role-and she would, nobody doubted that-her support would be a springboard for what was to come, what had to come.

But for the meanwhile, Jacen had to prove to Coruscant, and to a watching galaxy, that not only could order be imposed on chaos, it could also be imposed for the good of the majority.

He bowed slightly to Omas and left to make his way to the Strategic Command ops room, where he both felt and knew that Captain Shevu was still on duty despite the fact that his shift should have ended three hours ago.

Shevu was dedicated and forthright, and he’d have the best intelligence on where the Corellian troublemakers might be. Jacen could help him pinpoint them with the imprecise but highly reliable senses that the Force had given him.

They would make a formidable team, he, Ben, and Shevu.

VARLO, ROONADAN: WATERFRONT DISTRICT.

Just as the salesman had said, the waterfront neighborhood was chic and full of the well-heeled professional classes. The taxi took him along the artificial river, a canal with carefully constructed rapids and a manufactured current. There was even lush greenery along the banks, and parkland extended back to the rows of shops and trendy restaurants.

Fett, black cloak over his armor, felt utterly naked and concentrated on the fact that nobody would recognize him by his face. He decided he felt more at home in the kind of district where the bars were badly lit and a blaster was a necessity.

“I’m going to be working at AruMed,” said Fett. “Where’s the best place to buy a home?”

The taxi pilot glanced in his rearview mirror, and his eyes met Fett’s. It was the first time in years that anyone had really looked into his eyes and not just tried to stare through the visor.

“Upper Parkway is where all the scientists buy a place. You a scientist?”

“I’m an anatomist.” Yes, I know precisely where to shoot any one of a thousand species for maximum stopping power.

“You’ll definitely want Upper Parkway, then.”

“Nightlife?”

“Pricey bars. Skayan bistros and wine bars, mainly.” The pilot wrinkled his nose disapprovingly. “I’m an ale man myself.”

“How close to the AruMed labs?”

“Five minutes. Cozy little community.”

“All human?”

“You got anything against nonhumans?”

“Just curious.” Kaminoans hated sunlight. They were used to clouds, rain, and endless oceans. Fett doubted that an ornamental river would be water enough for Taun We. “I like to know my neighbors.”

“Only ever seen humans up there.”

Maybe you don’t know how to look. “Drop me there. I want to check if I like the place.”

Upper Parkway was every bit as smart as the taxi pilot had said. The apartment towers were interspersed with town houses-a real luxury on a crowded planet-and droids were still building properties on the edge of the park for which the neighborhood seemed to be named. From the end of the boulevard, Fett could see the gray monolithic building of the AruMed laboratories with its red illuminated sign, an easy walk for anyone living in Upper Park. And, as the pilot had said, the place had several attractive bistros.