[Legacy Of The Force] - 02(95)

Jacen handed him the datapad, suddenly all reason and concern. “You sure you’re all right, Ben?”

“I-I just never saw a dead body like that before.”

“It’s okay. You want to go home? I mean home to your mom. It’s okay if you want to.”

“I’m okay.”

Ben took the datapad and retreated to the nearest empty room. It was the cleaning droid’s station. He settled down on an upturned bucket and tried to look through the data in a sensible and rational way, but it was hard when you’d seen your hero do something terrible.

There. He’d dared think it. Jacen wasn’t perfect.

He flicked through the images in the datapad, hundreds of them, and they were all pictures of vessels just as Shevu had said. He had to scroll through them a number of times before the idea that was nagging away at the back of his mind suddenly became clear and he spotted what was in a lot of the pictures: not every one, but most of them. Sometimes it was just a detail, and sometimes it was almost half the ship, but it was the same class of ship.

It was a YT-1300, an old Corellian transport model that was still a common sight around the Core Worlds. They ran forever. Uncle Han’s Falcon seemed ready to run for eternity. Ben had a flash of insight.

Ben trotted down the corridor and approached Jacen cautiously, hoping that he was right-and hoping that the information might save the Corellian agent from Girdun.

“She was after Uncle Han, Jacen.” Ben handed back the datapad. “That’s the ship they were doing surveillance on. It’s in more than half of the images. They thought he was still here. She was looking for the Falcon.”

Jacen shut his eyes for a moment and swallowed. “I assumed she was in the right place. I assumed, Ben. That’s a lesson for all of us-never assume anything.” He concentrated, eyes closed, holding the datapad in his hands as if he was visioning something in the Force. “She didn’t feel focused on Dad, either.”

I thought you could do anything in the Force, Jacen. Why did you miss that? What blinded you to it?

Jacen opened his eyes again, looking as surprised by the oversight as Ben was.

“You’re right, Ben. I feel it. Well done. So this Mirta Gev might be connected. The woman who’s been trying to contact her.” He fumbled for his comlink, uncharacteristically shaken. “I can tell Dad we’ve got one of the assassins Thrackan sent after him. Now all he has to do is watch out for this Mirta Gev.”

Jacen hugged Ben with genuine relief. Ben could feel it wash over him. Shevu came out of the cell and gave Jacen a completely blank look that Ben could tell didn’t fit at all with what he was feeling, but Jacen was too tied up with calling Uncle Han to take any notice.

Ben knew what Shevu felt, and he felt a little of it, too.

Sometimes you have to do things you don’t like and kill people because you absolutely have to.

Jacen was right. But it was still horrible, and he didn’t think he would ever find it easy. He left Jacen to his call and decided it was time he faced his father.

CORELLIAN ASSEMBLY BUILDING, CORONET: OFFICE OF THE

CORELLIAN PRESIDENT.

It was an awfully big office, and offices that big usually meant small-minded men occupied them. Fett remained dismayed by the ease with which the likes of Thrackan Sal-Solo bounced back from disgrace and even treason charges to hold high office again and again. The galaxy was a moral cesspit. It got what it deserved.

“You beat the blockade, then,” said Sal-Solo, leaning back in his splendid apocia chair and holding court in front of the opposition party representatives. He smiled charmingly at Mirta, who didn’t smile back. She didn’t charm easy, that girl. “How would you like to work for Corellia?”

“Specify your requirements regarding Centerpoint.”

“The Alliance sabotaged it but I’m embarking on repairs and it should be fully operational in a few months.” Sal-Solo used the pronoun I a great deal. Fett listened in vain for the word we. “Once it’s online, the Alliance won’t be able to make us disarm. Ever.”

“Then why do you need Mandalorian assistance?”

“Repair crews haven’t been able to land on the station.”

“Try recruiting on Nar Shaddaa. You need smugglers to run blockades, not soldiers.”

“But when we do land crews, we’ll need someone to defend the station. It’s the Alliance’s prime target.”

Fett didn’t care for Sal-Solo. He didn’t care much for anybody, but this man was what Mandalorians called a hut’uun, a coward, the lowest form of life. Mirta had taught Fett a few choice Mando’a words against his will, but it seemed to be a fine language to curse in. “How much?”