SENATE BUILDING, CORUSCANT
Jacen’s official airspeeder brought him up to the main Senate entrance. He could have entered the building by any number of more private platforms, but he had no intention of sneaking in via the back doors; being seen counted for a lot, and he still had his heroic image to protect.
A line of citizens waited outside the doors that admitted members of the public to the viewing galleries. Some just wanted to watch the day’s business, but there was a small group who were clearly protesters. It wasn’t just the FREE OMAS banner that three of them were carrying among them. There was a taste of anger in the Force, vivid despite the permanent background of fear and uncertainty.
“Drop me here,” Jacen said. “I’ll walk.”
“They’ll harass you, sir,” said the Gran chauffeur. “I ought to take you straight up to your floor.”
“They’ve got a right to see who’s governing them.” It wasn’t as if they could cause him any harm. “I find that talking to people generally clears up misunderstandings.”
Jacen had expected at least one mass protest or a riot broken up by water cannon and dispersal gas. GAG intelligence showed that Corellian agents still operating on Coruscant were doing their best to make that happen. But the general willingness of the population to accept the change of regime surprised him. The stock exchange had suspended trading for a few hours, and some shares had bounced around: but the traffic still flowed, the stores were full of food, HoloNet programming was uninterrupted, and everyone was getting paid.
Unless you were Cal Omas or a civil liberties lawyer, the military junta was temporary and benign. There was a war on, after all. It was to be expected.
I ought to write a study on this. How to take over the state: smile, look reluctant, and keep the traffic flowing.
And it was just Coruscant. The rest of the GA worlds went on running their planetary business as they saw fit, unmolested, and that meant there was no need to stretch the fleet and the defense forces by deploying them to keep order on thousands of other worldstheir own, in many cases. All Jacen and Niathal had to worry about was Coruscant, because the political and strategic reality was that Coruscant… was the GA … was Coruscant.
The rest of the Alliance is detail. I have its heart and mind.
“Good morning,” Jacen said. The group of protesters stared at him with a collective, slowly dawning oh-it’s-really-him expression. Even a face that had been on HNE as regularly as his took some recognizing out of context. He extended his hand to them, and one man actually shook it. Most species responded well to placatory courtesy. “I just wanted to reassure you that Master Omas will get a scrupulously fair hearing. We’ve let him go home, too.”
When folks were worked up for yelling and seemed to want to be dragged away by CSF heavyweights, they were totally upended by having the object of their fury listen to them. Jacen’s patient smile met disoriented surprise. A couple of CSF officers began wandering across, probably expecting trouble, but Jacen dissuaded them with a little Force influence and they stopped a few meters away to observe.
More important, though, was the HNE news droid trundling around the Senate Plaza. There was always at least one on duty here, just hanging around to get stock shots, but now it had an actual story. Jacen watched it approach in his peripheral vision.
“Doesn’t matter how you dress it up,” said the young woman holding one end of the FREE OMAS banner. “The GA is being run now by the Supreme Commander and the head of the secret police, and nobody voted for you.”
Jacen managed an expression of slightly wounded innocence. “You’re right, I didn’t run for office, which is why I won’t remain joint Chief of State any longer than I have to. Would you like to see something? Inside the building?”
The woman looked at him suspiciously. “There’s always a catch.”
The news droid was right behind them now. Sometimes the Force placed things in his grasp. Suddenly he realized that everything was being handed to him and all he had to do was react, just as Lumiya had told him, and not analyze everything.
“Your choice,” Jacen said. “I just want to show you the Chief of State’s office. Anyone else want to come along?”
The security guards weren’t happy, but what Jacen wanted, Jacen got. He led a straggling group of protesters, day visitors, and the HNE droid through the glittering lobby and up in the turbolift to the floor of offices where the public was almost never allowed, the seat of galactic government itself.
A few civil servants in the corridor did a double take but carried on about their business. Niathal must have seen him come in on the security holocams, because she was wandering around the lobby, clutching a couple of datapads. Jacen acknowledged her with a smile and walked up to the carved double doors of the Chief of State’s suite of offices.