[Legacy Of The Force] - 05(49)

“Another promise I made a long time ago.” He chewed, looking slightly past her in recollection. “I tend to keep them.”

He went on chewing, occasionally throwing chunks to Mird. And that was it. Silence descended. She thought he might talk about his family on Mandalore, all the undiscovered relatives she now found she had, but he didn’t.

Mirta realized she wasn’t going to get anything more out of him, and she didn’t want to look needy. She returned to the cockpit, settled into the copilot’s seat, and clutched the heart-of-fire against her chest plate. Even if it told her nothing, it was still a connection to her mother and grandmother.

“You fed up with him already?” Fett asked.

She wanted to think Jaing had given Fett some hope and raised his spirits, but it was hard to tell. “Is your armor really rubbish? Why don’t you use proper Mandalorian iron, like Beviin says—”

“Don’t push your luck. I let you stick a needle in me. That’s your fun for the day.”

It had cheered him up. Mirta could tell. She hoped that not only would Jaing’s unspecified “resources” come through, but that Boba Fett would redeem himself so that her only kin wasn’t someone that she wished were someone else.

GAG HQ, CORUSCANT

Jacen didn’t want to look too interested in the Policy and Resources Council proceedings. If he showed up for the meeting and sat in the gallery reserved for those hardy citizens who actually cared about the minutiae of government, he might cause questions to be asked.

On the other hand, he might just have been seen as a micromanaging, interfering colonel who put his troops’ welfare above schools, health, and transport.

That was fine by him. He did.

But a low profile was called for, so he stayed at GAG HQ and switched to the HoloNet channel that broadcast Senate proceedings. Lumiya should have been there by now. He waited for the holocam to pan to the public gallery and saw, as he expected, a woman in a sober business suit and veiled headdress. She wasn’t the only one, either. Veils were considered very chic this year. She drew no attention at all.

HM-3’s amendment to the procurement regulations was Item 357 on an agenda of 563 mind-bogglingly boring tweaks and changes to laws Jacen didn’t even know were on the statute books.

I’m going to have to do a lot of delegating when I’m … in charge. A handpicked team of administrators. Led by HM-3,1 think.

The session had already started, and Senators who were happy to do the small routine work—and not be noticed—were on Item 24, having a particularly arcane piece of hazardous waste legislation explained to them. Jacen turned off the audio feed and set the monitor to alert him when Item 357 was up. Then he got on with reading more intelligence reports, with the doors to his office wide open.

He almost always kept the doors open. It reassured the troops. It told them that he was an accessible officer, always willing to listen.

But Jori Lekauf peered in, boots still firmly on the corridor side of the doors as if there were a barrier marked OFFICER TERRITORY—DO NOT PASS.

“Lady at the security gate asking to see you, sir.”

Jacen, distracted, felt in the Force to see who it might be. “Mara Skywalker.”

Lekauf grinned. “It’s great the way you can do that, sir.”

“I don’t get many women coming to see me, so I could have guessed …” Jaina wouldn’t be visiting, not without him feeling her resentment and mistrust marching ahead of her like a vanguard. And it wouldn’t have been Tenel Ka. He missed her, and he missed Allana even more. I don’t have to kill them. I’d know if I had to, wouldn’t I? “Bring her in.”

“Yes, sir.” Lekauf turned to go.

“Lekauf…”

“Sir?”

“Have you ever considered a commission?”

“Not sure if I’m officer material, sir.”

“I think you could be. I’m not forcing you, but we need good officers coming through the ranks, because we’ll have a challenging role in the years to come.”

Lekauf seemed dubious. “I’m willing to give it a go, sir.”

“Excellent. I’ll get the adjutant to fix the paperwork. We’ll probably have to delay staff college until the security situation is more stable, but I’m sure Shevu or Girdun will be happy to guide you. And you’ll be able to keep an eye on Ben. He really trusts you.”

Lekauf blinked, but there was no expression on his face. “Captain Shevu looks after me very well. I’ll learn a lot from him.”

Non sequiturs said a lot. Lekauf wasn’t naive, for all his cheerful schoolboy appearance. His careful avoidance of Captain Girdun’s name confirmed Jacen’s observations that the ex-Intel man wasn’t a popular officer with troops from the military and CSF side. Spies had that effect. Shevu had come from the CSF—familiar, visible, reliable folks you were happy to see in a crisis.