[Legacy Of The Force] - 08(131)
I could have shot her, of course.
If the debacle of the Fondor operation had been the Force’s patient way of removing Niathal neatly, making her a traitor and Caedus a wounded hero defeated by treachery, then he was prepared to concede it was another necessary source of pain. He took off his gloves and laid them on the desk. Shoot her, and people would have called him a despot. Lose ships and personnel, both the destroyed and the stolen, and Caedus could return with some honor, with the same end result. It was all illusion. If Luke Skywalker thought his Fallanassi conjuring was fine sleight of hand, he didn’t understand the power of presentation.
The new admin droid glided in. “I’ve prepared a digest of the nonurgent matters that arose during your absence, Chief of State, “it said, placing a neat stack of datapads on the fine desk that used to belong to Cal Omas. “I’ve taken the liberty of clearing Admiral Niathal’s office and transferring all defense business to this department. Two matters for your diary today-the appointment of a new Supreme Commander, and Senator G’Sil would like to see you.”
“Oh, I’d forgotten him, “said Caedus. The Senators who were left after so many defections and secessions from the GA seemed to huddle together for comfort, forming protective herds in committees. They talked; droids listened patiently, interpreted creatively, and then just did what Caedus told them to. It was a therapeutic arrangement. Many government departments were now overseen by droids. Caedus liked their efficiency and an absence of ambitious self-interest. “Does the Security Council still sit?”
“I believe so, Chief of State. Quarterly. Hence the Senator’s wish to see you.”
“Very well.”
“He’s waiting for me to summon him.”
“Now would be ideal, then. Get it all out of the way. I’ve got a tight schedule this week.”
“I’ve thinned out the diary a little, sir, “said the droid. “I anticipated that you might be tired after the events of the last week.”
“Excellent.” That really was most impressive. “I appreciate your foresight.”
“How is Lieutenant Veila?”
“Recovering well, thank you.”
Caedus found a cup of caf poured for him-piping hot-and settled at the desk to skim the datapads. The galaxy was calming down. He could feel it. The vista from the window caught his eye and distracted him for a moment; the transparisteel wall of his office was full of Coruscant as it always should have been, canyon towers and orderly skylanes full of patient traffic; jobs, peace, ample food. The vague echoes of the Yuuzhan Vong occupation, visible in some of the alien vegetation and the more recently constructed buildings that had filled yawning gaps left by destruction, seemed to haunt the citizens no more now than the Lahag Erli occupation of Har Binande, which left the Har worlds full of exquisite architecture that attracted tourists, with no real memory of the suffering and misery inflicted centuries before. There was a point where the past stopped nagging to have a voice in every daily decision, and simply became history.
The droid had collated media coverage of the past week, too. Caedus shuffled through the pads to choose one digest to play on the larger desk screen. He skipped through the battle footage and the studio analysis of who failed and why-irrelevant, all history already-and his eye was caught by a headline from one of the scurrilous gossip holozines, not one focused on the sleazy private lives of emotidrama and holovid stars, but one of the more preten-tiously political versions that mixed satire-really very funny, he had to admit-with real news, savagely written. JACEN’S GAME OF HAPPY FAMILIES: JOINT GANGSTER OF
STATE
Caedus was used to the steady stream of attacks about the removal of Cal Omas and indefinite emergency powers, but it was all talk in the fringe media. Citizens did nothing about it and got on happily with their lives. This story opened with the coup, and went on to list actions against members of his own family-the attempt to court-martial Jaina, the arrest warrant on his parents, and the rift with Luke and the whole Jedi Council. Then there was a reference to the death of “Luke Sywalker’s wife on Kavan, at a time when Jacen Solo was away from Coruscant” juxta-posed with the death of Ailyn Vel-dubbed “Fett Junior” - Cal Omas, Dur Gejjen, and a much more direct line about his involvement in an “alleged fatal assault” on Lieutenant Tebut not being investigated by the fleet or CSF.
Caedus laid his cup down on the desk and read the sum mary again. He found he was actually upset by it-no, offended. Hurt. None of it was actually untrue; he explored his feelings, surprised that he could be stung by such a niinor episode in a turbulent, painful life, just chatter from beings who didn’t count and who couldn’t affect his destiny.