“How good of you to involve me in this…”
“I haven’t committed us to anything.”
So it’s us again. “If you think Pellaeon is going to kiss and make up after I took his job, you’re really not paying attention.”
“Well, just to give the Moffs an incentive to persuade him to forgive and forget, I was thinking of offering them some extra turf in return for joining us-Borleias and Bilbringi.”
It was certainly an incentive, and would have been excessively generous if either world had been the GA’s gift to give. Neither was a full member of the Alliance. “So what does the gift amount to? Turning a blind eye to the Moffs invading? Helping them do it? Helping them costs resources, and we’d never have gone to their aid had those planets been attacked anyway. So how do we give?”
“When we defeat the Confederation, we’ll shape the galaxy as we see fit for the greatest benefit. They contribute to that, and they get two rich worlds for their trouble.”
“Or they still get two worlds that don’t want to be under their yoke and fight them for every meter of land.”
“Either way, not our problem.”
But sooner or later, it would come back to bite him, she was sure. “This reminds me of one of those Naboo time-share scams, “she said. It was time to let him get bitten, and Pellaeon would never allow it anyway. “But I leave the high-level politics to you.”
“Fondor, then?”
“Shut down their shipyards first, because that disables their war effort. Then we neutralize their armed forces.”
“Very well.”
“And are you going to talk to Pellaeon direct?”
“I was thinking of sending a more neutral figure. Tahiri.”
“Jacen, she’s not exactly a diplomat, or even a negotiator.”
“All she has to do is get him to accept the principle. I can do the rest.”
Niathal got the feeling that Tahiri was being groomed to take Ben’s place. She was glad the boy had managed to get out of Jacen’s grip; he had the makings of a good officer and was becoming his own man. “Let me know when you do, then.” She turned to go to her own office, the one she’d had as Supreme Commander. It felt like a haven at times like this. “Preferably before you take action…”
“Send Shevu in, will you?” Jacen called after her. “He should be outside by now.”
Niathal passed the young GAG captain in the corridor, right on time, and gave him a nod toward Jacen’s door. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look scared. If Jacen toler-ated someone that visibly unintimidated in his entourage, then Shevu had to be one of his most trusted lackeys. She would keep her distance.
“He’s all yours, “said Niathal.
THE MILLENNIUM FALCON, JEDI OUTPOST, ENDOR
“So, Dad, how do I contact Boba Fett?” Jaina asked. All she could see of Han Solo in his position under the coolant lines of the Millennium falcon were his pilot’s boots. “How did you get hold of him?”
“Usual way, kid. I stood around like a jerk, and he ambushed me.”
“I’m serious, Dad.”
Han hauled himself out from under the Falcon and got to his feet. “This is Jag’s idea, isn’t it? I should never have let him have the crushgaunts.”
“Hey, I can make my own crazy decisions. And the best person to teach me how to hunt Jedi is Fett. Am I right?”
Han wiped the hydrospanner on a rag, and Jaina could see that a light had gone out of him. Beyond the clearing, the forest was a cacophony of wild noise that somehow managed to coalesce into something tranquil. Here she was, talking in this detached and oblique way about hunting Jedi-her twin brother, her father’s only remaining son. There were days when Dad disowned Jacen and never wanted to see him again, and the next day…. the next, Jacen was his boy again, and he wanted to look after him and put things right. But every day, the volume of things that needed putting right got bigger, and harder, and more impossible. Dad hurt. Jaina knew Mom was hurting, too, but she seemed to be handling it better than him.
“So Ben thinks Jacen killed Mara.”
Jaina reached out and took the rag and the tool from his hands. “It’s clean now, Dad. Yes, he does.”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“You think he’s capable of that?”
“I don’t even want to think about it yet.”
“Jaina, do you think he’s capable of it?”
Jacen had tortured Ben: who knew what kind of weird logic he was operating under? If he did something terrible to Mara, would he have had any concept of it being wrong? He hadn’t planned to kill Fett’s daughter, but she hadn’t survived his interrogation. Jaina hated herself for even thinking it. Jacen was Han Solo’s son. But every killer, every criminal, was someone’s kid.