[Legacy Of The Force] - 08(24)

He had to hand it to Lecersen; the Moff had a superbly analytical mind, and didn’t need to hear the gossip about Jacen Solo’s parallel course with his grandfather’s to predict certain outcomes. Had Jacen but known it, though, he was doing what every flawed and ideologically committed leader throughout history had done. His vision was all-consuming, and in time he would become so dazzled by it and so embedded in it that he would ignore and then simply not see the warning signs. There was always one more bold act, always one more final push, that would vindicate him and make everything work.

They all did it. The innovators and visionaries who had brilliant ideas and could get things moving had very different psyches to what was needed to reach and maintain stability. They simply looked for more glorious revolution to spark. It was hardwired. It was doomed to self-destruct. And it cost lives.

Sooner or later-sooner, probably-Jacen Solo would overstretch himself, and then the battlefield would be open to those who could pick up the pieces and bring back quiet order. It would be left to the Empire.

The Moffs filed out. Pellaeon hung back with Reige until the grand room was empty except for them and a house-keeping droid who hovered around clearing the splendid pleek table.

“I love it when you drop a full payload on them, sir, “Reige said.

“That’ll teach them to think I’m deaf. The bloodfins aren’t hauling me away yet.”

But this was just the opening salvo. Jacen Solo would not give up. Pellaeon wanted to see if anything of genuine substance was on the table before he made a more formal refusal. And he would not play by Jacen’s despotic rules. One Palpatine was enough for a lifetime.

There was still caf left in the pot, and Pellaeon was in no hurry now. He chatted with Reige about the temperaments of pedigree bloodfins, and whether they could ever be safe for children to ride, given their propensity to devour whatever fell in front of them in the heat of the moment. He turned aside the droid when it attempted to clear away those tasty little xirlia pastries. He felt clean and in control again.

Then his comlink chirped. He recognized the incoming code.

“Excuse me, my boy, “he said. “I must see what my Coruscant bureau has to tell me.”

It wasn’t spying; Pellaeon was welcome to return to the capital anytime as a respected veteran. He was simply keeping in touch with old friends. The message wasn’t voice, but text; and it was very short. Rumors-from impeccable sources-said that Jacen Solo had lost his temper after a skirmish and Force-choked a junior officer to death in full view of the bridge crew.

“Oh, it’s just like old times, “said Pellaeon, finding that making light of enormities preserved his blood pressure for those times when he really needed to be angry. “We’re all back in harness, reprising the glory days of our youth. Myself, Princess Leia and young Skywalker, Master Fett.. and now little Lord Vader.”

The military had adored Jacen for throwing his lot in with them and looking after them. How long they might keep that up if he made a habit of killing underlings, Pellaeon wasn’t sure. Jacen still had a fund of goodwill to squander yet.

No, Pellaeon would very definitely not be playing by Jacen Solo’s rules.



ANAKIN SOLO, GANDEAL-FONDOR HYPERLANE

“Teb…”

No, she’s gone.

It was the second time that morning that Darth Caedus had turned to Lieutenant Tebut for a sitrep and remembered she was dead, which left him unsettled for reasons he had to stop and ponder. Captain Shevu gave him an odd glance when he turned to the station that Tebut had normally occupied on the bridge, but said nothing. Caedus wandered across to the viewscreen to look out at distorted time and space, a respite while he grappled with his lapses. Tahiti, playing the part of a junior officer perfectly, stayed at her station with her hands clasped behind her back.

Had he genuinely forgotten that he’d killed Tebut? Or was this all part of… grieving? He’d lost count of the times he’d marked a passage in a holozine for his brother Anakin, or seen something funny that he just had to tell him, or any one of a dozen things that crashed painfully when he remembered in the next instant that Anakin was dead. Caedus could remember how terrible that was; and yet he could flow-walk back to Anakin’s death and not suffer that again.

He didn’t understand why, and that bothered him. He Was supposed to be past those petty personal concerns now. Perhaps this was the way it was for Sith of his status; perhaps he needed the ability to switch off and do what was necessary, however distressing, and yet not lose the passions and sorrows that gave Sith strength. If he could take terrible decisions and never feel their enormity, then he would be no better than a droid. Flesh and blood needed the protective rule of someone who understood their pain.