[Legacy Of The Force] - 05(100)

“How the other half lives … ,” Wirut said as the turbolift doors

opened onto a lobby of extraordinary luxury. The air was perfumed, a pleasantly neutral woody scent, and the broad corridor was lined with niches filled with rare Naboo crystal—Omas had a weakness for that—and iridescent Shalui ceramics. “I could fit my apartment and my ten neighbors in here.”

“If we put fancy pottery in the corridors of my building, it wouldn’t be there long,” said Limm. She cast an envious eye at a shimmering red vase that changed gradually to green and turquoise as the angle of the observer changed. “Still, his insurance payments must hurt.”

“Possessions are burdens.” Jacen smiled. “What you have can always be taken away, so wealth breeds fear.”

“I’ll willingly face that kind of fear, sir,” Wirut muttered. “And a nice big SoroSuub yacht. That would scare me very nicely.”

The magnificent doors to Omas’s apartment were engraved bronzium, an abstract design by one of Coruscant’s top artists. Jacen couldn’t recall the name. It seemed a waste of talent when the doors were seen only by Omas, his inner circle, the housekeeping staff, and repair droids. Republica House had the kind of architecture and design that warranted public tours.

Jacen paused, marshaling his thoughts before pressing the bell. The troopers stood back and pulled down their visors, standard procedure when entering a building. For a moment Jacen thought they were going to stack either side of the door, but they were simply taking a pace backward, Limm keeping an eye on the corridor as a routine precaution.

Omas answered the door himself. Jacen knew he didn’t have day-and-night close protection these days, but somehow he expected a droid or even a real butler to receive callers. The Chief of State looked at him with a puzzled frown, and then at the two troopers.

“Good evening, Jacen.” He stepped back and ushered them in. “Wretched business, this shooting. I can’t say I liked Gejjen, but it shows how careful we have to be in our line of work.”

He ambled down a long hallway that made the corridor outside look like a lower levels slum. The art on the walls was breathtaking, and most of it seemed to predate the Yuuzhan Vong invasion. Some gallery curator had a very secure hiding place, then. At the end, Omas turned around.

“Can I get you good people something to drink before we sit down?”

Somehow it would have been so much easier if Omas had been hostile.

“Sir,” said Jacen. “I’m arresting you in the name of the Galactic Alliance for activity likely to compromise the safety of the state.”

Omas frowned slightly, as if he hadn’t heard right. He walked a few steps back along the passage where the downlighters cast pools of light on velvet-pile ruby carpet.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re under arrest, sir. We’ll let you call your lawyer later, but right now it would be a good idea if you came with us.”

Omas gave a little snort of amusement. “Jacen, my dear boy, this is Cal Omas you’re talking to. Don’t be such a prat—arrest me? Arrest me?”

Jacen reached in his jacket and took out a datapad. “Under the terms of the Emergency Measures Act, anyone, including heads of state, politicians, and any other individuals believed to be presenting a genuine risk to the security of the Galactic Alliance can now be detained. That’s a quote, sir. The amendment to the law to include heads of state came into effect at midnight, and you are a head of state …”

Omas looked stunned rather than alarmed. Jacen was used to the GAG producing fear when they paid a visit, but amazement was disconcerting.

“I saw that amendment come through on the notifications circular yesterday,” Omas said, still quite casually conversational. “Good grief. You really did it, didn’t you? You actually changed the law and planned this.”

“Sir—”

“Am I allowed to know what risk I’m supposed to pose to my own state?”

“I can show you, sir,” Jacen said, and switched his datapad to the strip-cam footage of the meeting with Gejjen. He cued it up and then held the pad so that Omas could see the screen. “Please feel free to view it all and then tell me if that’s not you in the room with two Alliance Intel officers, the late Prime Minister, and his two CorSec protection officers.”

The look on Omas’s face was priceless. Jacen felt a flood of relief that he had finally, finally made Omas realize that he was now a man with no future. Omas stared at the datapad and did indeed watch the whole meeting. Behind Jacen, Wirut and Limm waited in patient silence.

“Well,” said Omas. “What can I say?”