[Legacy Of The Force] - 02(66)
“Immigration reports growing numbers looking to leave.”
“I’m getting very uneasy about this, Admiral,” said Omas. “The images on HNE might have played well to the jingoistic element on Coruscant, but it reminded a lot of us of Imperial excesses.”
“You authorized the action.” Niathal fixed Omas with that head-tilted stare. “What did you expect it to remind you of?”
Jacen cut in. Niathal had dispensed with any pretense of disinterest in Omas’s job the moment she had been appointed Supreme Commander. She was going for broke.
“We’re simply doing the same as the terrorists, except we caused no serious casualties,” said Jacen. “A small action creating a disproportionately large impact. This is as much a propaganda war as anything.”
“You planned to scare Corellians out?”
Niathal lowered her voice. “No, we planned to make it clear we would deal with threats to the population of Coruscant.”
“And that’s why you go in and do your own sleight of hand, is it?” Omas was addressing his remarks to Niathal even though it had been Jacen’s operation. “One massive overreaction makes it look as if you have the whole situation under control?”
“If that’s how you want to see it, Chief Omas, yes.” Jacen answered. It’s me you’re dealing with, not Niathal. “No deaths. A reassured public. A clear statement to any who want to kill and maim civilians that they won’t be tolerated. Removing truly dangerous individuals from our streets. And also sending a message that if Corellia can be stopped from pursuing a destructive path at the expense of the common good, then any world can. Or would you rather let the enemies within erode our society? These are people who are happy to accept the benefits of being a Coruscant resident, an Alliance citizen, but don’t want the effort of being loyal to it. If that’s my sleight of hand, then I’ll sleep soundly tonight.”
Omas looked about to speak but simply glanced down at his hands as if making a conscious effort not to respond. He was too wily a politician to take on both Jacen and Niathal in front of G’Sil. If he lost, G’Sil would smell blood.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to the Corellian embassy.” Omas stood up and walked to the doors. “I’d appreciate a schedule of your next operations in advance.”
G’Sil watched him go. “It’s always a shame when HNE isn’t here to record a really great speech.”
No, Senator, that’s not the game I’m playing. You have no idea, do you? No idea at all. “You might be surprised to know I meant every word,” said Jacen. “I know what a war looks like and I want this one to be the last one.”
G’Sil seemed to take his comment as youthful sincerity. “Now, there’s a wish with a lot of meanings,” he said. “Let me go and calm Omas down. He’s finding it hard to adjust to Jedi who aren’t nice, tidy parts of the high council. Funny how we can attack Corellian territory without turning a hair, but we lose our nerve when we kick down a few doors on our home turf.”
I never wanted to take on the Jedi council. But nobody here can see anything except in terms of personal ambition.
“Are we both after the same job?” Niathal asked Jacen. It was always hard to tell if a Mon Calamari was joking. Jacen sensed that there was a tinge of amusement in her mind, but not much.
“I don’t want to be a politician,” he said. “You’d make a fine Chief of State, but I wouldn’t.”
Niathal’s mood changed like the sun coming out and Jacen felt relaxed goodwill and … respect. He’d meant what he said; she’d taken it as a deal struck between them. “What job do you want, then? Jedi council?”
Oh, not that. She was already seeing him as a rival to Luke. From a political point of view, it had its own inevitability, but she couldn’t have known that the Jedi didn’t feature in his plans at all.
“I’m not even a Master.” He had a moment of cold clarity in which he saw exactly what he wanted, and it stood outside him, a vision to observe and not be part of. “What I want is for the trillions of ordinary people in the galaxy to be able to get on with their lives knowing that it’s being run by a stable form of government. The vast majority of folk just get smashed by the fallout from the power struggles of a handful. I want to see that stop. I want to see power meaning duty, service, not a prize.”
Niathal adjusted her tunic, straightening the braid fastening. “Well said. For someone whose whole family is an elite, you have a refreshingly military take on the exercise of power.” Jacen had cut free from his attachment to a heroic reputation, but it was comforting to be reassured that he wasn’t deluding himself. He savored a small moment of relief, and dreamed of a secure galaxy for Tenel Ka and Allana.