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Legacy Of The Force_ Bloodlines Part 30

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"You always this lucky?" Mirta asked. Her voice was tight and strained. Fett didn't look at her. If she had any sense, she'd be scared rigid. He certainly was. Only idiots didn't feel fear.

"Let's see," he said. Fear, yes; but fear never paralyzed him. It just made him sharper.

Slave I hit the atmosphere, and the hull temperature sensor jumped into the red. The emergency computer kicked in, correcting as best it could, but now it was simply a case of waiting to see if Slave I's hull-and airframe-could handle the worst possible reentry.

Mirta, to her credit, was completely silent. Fett wouldn't have blamed her if she had allowed herself a scream or two.

"Have you done this before?" she asked, voice shaking.



"Once."

"That's encouraging."

Corellia filled Slave I's viewscreen. It was sobering to note how much of a planet a s.h.i.+p covered when decelerating. They were over Coronet; Fett recognized the city. The big park that was split in two by the speeder highway hadn't changed. The hull sensor had settled back into the yellow zone, and apart from some ominous creaking Slave I had slowed enough for a normal vertical landing on her down-jets.

"Coronet ATC to unidentified Firespray, I have you on visual . . . you're a little big for a speeder bike, aren't you?"

"Slave One here," said Fett. Oops. He disabled the decoy system and the s.h.i.+p resumed her normal profiles. "Your scanner must be having problems."

"Just can't get the maintenance staff these days. You're cleared to land in the priority bays. Follow the red lights."

"It's nice to feel welcome."

"President Sal-Solo is sending a speeder for you."

Slave I settled on her dampers, and Mirta let out a breath loud enough for Fett to hear.

But he never allowed himself that degree of relief. One danger had pa.s.sed, and now he simply moved on to the next one: holding Sal-Solo at arm's length, getting off Corellia again, finding that clone, and getting him to surrender his secrets.

And facing Ailyn, which suddenly felt more dangerous than anything he'd ever done in his life.

Why does a man who's dying anyway worry about cras.h.i.+ng?

"Come on," he said. "Help me secure the s.h.i.+p. I don't trust Sal-Solo any farther than I can spit."

"You're letting me come with you?"

"I'm not letting you sit in Slave One for a few days." Fett set the intruder countermeasures, this time including the self-destruct. He didn't trust anybody, but there was still a scale of distrust, and Sal-Solo was up there with the Hutts. "Just do as I tell you."

"Is that because I'm useful, or because you want to keep an eye on me?"

"Because I don't want to have to hunt you down and shoot you before you tell me what happened to my wife," he said. He wasn't sure if he said it to shock, or because he meant it. He didn't have to care either way. "I did love her. I just didn't know how to be part of a family."

Do I mean that? Yes, I think I really do.

Fett didn't let Mirta see all the codes that turned Slave I into a b.o.o.by trap for anyone insane enough to try breaking into her, but the girl learned the basic routines fast. By the time they climbed out of the forward hatch, there was an airspeeder waiting on the permacrete strip and three men in business suits standing in front of it with hopeful expressions.

A Corellian stepped forward-dark-haired, young, but with an air of being well into middle age-and held out his hand for a few awkward seconds before realizing Fett wasn't about to shake it.

"Welcome to Coronet, sir," he said. "We represent the three main political parties of the Corellian a.s.sembly. We hope you'll be able to help us."

So Sal-Solo had sent his minions. Okay, that was understandable. Fett checked his weapons status in his HUD, just in case things didn't go quite as planned, shoved Mirta in the back of the speeder, and then sat up front with the driver. That appeared to surprise his welcoming committee.

"I'm Dur Gejjen, by the way," said the young-old Corellian, commendably unfazed. "It's very good to meet you."

Gejjen would be trouble. Fett could feel it.

Chapter Fifteen.

We're under siege. The Galactic Alliance has violated our airs.p.a.ce, marooned civilian workers on orbiters without food and water, and opened fire on our defense forces. The Alliance has committed more acts of war against us. We'll stand alone if we have to, but I invite other planets to ask themselves this: which of you will be the Alliance's next target? Support us while you still can."

-Thrackan Sal-Solo in a speech to the Corellian a.s.sembly, broadcast live on HNE's Corellian affiliate network SENATE BUILDING: DAY THREE OF THE CORELLIAN BLOCKADE.

An ocean of people-perhaps half a million-churned and surged around in the plaza in front of the Senate Building. Jacen could see a very long line of hundreds of blue-uniformed CSF officers with riot s.h.i.+elds and visors pulled down, forming a defensive barrier across the face of the building. It was a protest: not exactly a ma.s.s riot, given the population of Galactic City, but it wasn't a welcoming committee for the heroes of the blockade, either.

Judging by the position of the police lines, there appeared to be two hostile factions yelling abuse at each other-Coruscanti versus the pro-Corellian lobby. Coruscant and the Galactic Alliance were indivisible.

Jacen could hear a chant taken up by thousands of voices.

"The-Empire's-back! The-Empire's-back! The-Empire's -back!"

It was hard to tell, but Jacen a.s.sumed it was a taunt from the dissidents, and not Coruscanti enjoying the prospect of firm government. But his exploits had gone down very well in the Alliance's heartland. He kept an eye on HNE and the news holozines.

"Pity I couldn't stay in the front line," said Niathal. "That's the worst thing about command. Anchors you to a desk."

"I'll remain hands-on for as long as I can," Jacen said. "I'd like to show my face on the blockade line. Good for morale."

"You have an office in mind, then .. ."

"Don't worry. Not yours."

"And I note that you haven't gone back to wearing Jedi robes."

Jacen dusted a speck of lint from his black GAG uniform. "I don't see any point in provoking Uncle Luke or the Jedi council. I know they don't enjoy being identified with my actions."

"Ironic, seeing as the Public Affairs Office says polls indicate the popularity of the Jedi council has increased a little."

"Jedi are supposed to be beyond populism, Admiral."

As Niathal's staff airspeeder slowed to skirt the crowd, Jacen glanced out of the window and noted the new mix of species and allegiances forming the army of protesters. "Well, we rounded up the Corellians, and now their places are being filled by others." He identified various nationalities by clothing, hairstyles, s.n.a.t.c.hes of language. "Look, isn't that a couple of Rodians?"

"As long as you don't see any Mandalorians ..."

The closer to the lobby that the speeder edged, the uglier the mood of the crowd appeared to become. A group of CSF officers drove back the crowd with none-too-gentle shoves emphasized with batons to let the speeder through. Jacen and Niathal got out, and he took the precaution of throwing up a Force-s.h.i.+eld around them.

Jacen almost didn't feel danger now, not in the sense he always had. He merely took account of circ.u.mstances and reacted accordingly. As they stepped out of the speeder, a hail of stones, old food containers, bottles, and other debris flew at them. All of it bounced back from the Force-barrier, some of it hitting the upturned riot s.h.i.+elds.

Jacen turned and stepped forward into the crowd: he didn't enjoy displaying his Force powers in such a vulgar way, but there were times when they could make a point. He held his hands a little way from his sides, closed his eyes, and pressed outward with his mind as if lifting his arms.

Nothing violent. Mustn't cause a crush, or a stampede. Innocent people will be hurt.

The crowd closest to him fell back a few paces, some of them looking around frantically to see what was pus.h.i.+ng them back. More missiles rained from farther back in the press of bodies, accompanied by shouting and shoving, but they simply bounced off the Force-s.h.i.+eld, and Jacen stood calmly staring back into the ma.s.s of people. A breathless silence spread from the line nearest to him like a fast tide engulfing a sh.o.r.e. Even some of the CSF officers seemed frozen to the spot.

Everyone knew about Jedi, but very few ever saw them in action-or felt them.

"Go home," said Jacen. "Just break it up and go home before I have to do something about it."

They didn't run, of course, but he had made his point; the respite gave the CSF line a chance to push the rival groups apart again, and Jacen followed Niathal into the Senate Building and up to the Chief of State's office.

Luke Skywalker was already there, Mara sitting beside him, and he didn't look pleased to see Jacen.

"We are still not at war," Omas insisted, staring out the window at the crowds. "Does the council still support the blockade?"

"As the only alternative to full-scale war or backing down on disarmament, yes." Luke wasn't looking at Omas. His gaze was on Jacen. "How much impact is the blockade having?"

Niathal looked up from her datapad. Jacen wasn't sure how she regarded Luke; his uncle didn't feature in their conversations. "We've intercepted or turned back around seventy percent of vessels trying to enter or leave the two exclusion rings, but in terms of volume of cargo and personnel, that's nearer ninety percent. We're stopping the big vessels but losing some of the small ones. All in all-it's biting already."

"Should we revise our policy on stopping traffic movements around the s.h.i.+pyards?"

"Nonviolent way of leaning on the civilian population," said Jacen. "When dad doesn't come home when he's due back from the yards, it focuses families, and families lean on governments."

Luke stood up and watched from the window with Omas. "And what about these people, Jacen?

You've cracked down on the Corellians. What about all the non-Corellians I see down there?"

Mara gave Jacen a careful, don't-take-the-bait look. He could feel the tension between her and Luke, and he knew it was more about Ben than about politics or personal rights. "If any other national group or species threatens the security of Coruscant or the Alliance, then I'll deal with that, too."

"Within the law."

"Yes, within the law. I realize you don't approve of my methods, but someone has to carry out the damage limitation."

"We've had a dozen terrorist incidents in a few weeks," Luke said. "I'm sorry that lives have been lost, but we need to get that in perspective when it comes to how we treat billions."

That got Omas's attention. He turned from the window. "I invite you to tell the Coruscant public that, Master Sky-walker. The fact that they won't see it that way is why terrorism is always so effective. And the Senate doesn't see it that way, either. The Security and Intelligence Council now has full emergency powers to take operational decisions on the handling of public safety."

Luke stood his ground. Jacen had thought he was indecisive and afraid of banging heads together, but when he did take a stand, he was adamant. It was just a pity that he took a position on the wrong issues.

"I'm still uncomfortable with the armed forces being used against civilians."

"Define a civilian with a blaster who doesn't like the government, then," said Jacen.

"The legitimate government has taken the decision." Luke's tone was even and controlled.

"I'm just dissenting, and as the members of the Jedi council aren't the elected representatives of the people, then an opinion is all that it is."

Niathal was watching the exchange with faint interest. "This is an exquisite ethical argument, but right now I'm more concerned with stopping Corellia repairing an orbital weapon that was capable of taking out the Yuuzhan Vong and that will, if brought back online, ruin the Alliance's entire day."

Omas almost twitched. The power play was luminous in its visibility. "What would you prefer to do, Admiral? We failed to destroy it last time."

"We can reduce a planet to molten slag from orbit. Let's not rule out the possibility of needing to do that to Centerpoint-even if it would be best preserved to defend the Alliance."

"It's populated," said Luke.

"So are wars.h.i.+ps."

Omas interrupted, looking at his chrono. "I don't think this takes us any farther forward.

I have a delegation from the Corporate Sector Authority coming to see me soon." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the protest still going on below, which had turned ugly now as far as Jacen could see. CSF officers had waded in with batons, and the telltale cloud of white gas from a recently fired dispersal canister drifted on the air, clearing a s.p.a.ce as protesters scattered. "Don't be surprised if we see the planetary allegiances going on down there reflected on the blockade line."

Jacen took the unspoken instruction to leave, and Niathal followed him. As Niathal peeled off to go to her state office, Luke caught Jacen's arm-just a brief touch, nothing more.

But Jacen sensed him flinch as if he'd had an electric shock.

"Have you got five minutes, Jacen?" Luke indicated a side room.

Jacen smiled. "Ah, we all fall into corporate euphemisms fast, don't we?"

"Sorry?"

"It's code for 'Come in here and let me read you the riot act,' isn't it?"

"It's code for 'We want to talk to you about Ben, in private.' "

Jacen inclined his head politely and suppressed his detectable feelings further so that he presented quiet bewilderment to Luke and Mara. The doors of the side room closed behind them.

"Where is Ben?" Luke asked.

"Captain Shevu is keeping an eye on him at the barracks."

Mara spoke for the first time. She'd been uncharacteristically silent in Omas's office. It was a sure sign something was wrong, because Mara always had a view, even if it didn't match Luke's-especially if it didn't match Luke's.

"Jacen, Luke's worried about Ben going on these raids with you."

"He's perfectly safe. Safer than when you sent him to attack Centerpoint with me."

"Actually, it's not his physical well-being that concerns me the most," said Luke. "I'm worried that instead of being taught to use his Force skills for good, he's using them to bust down doors and round up civilians."

"It all depends on your definition of good, doesn't it?"

"I want Ben to go to the academy and get himself straightened out for a while."

"Normally I'd say that's your decision to make as his father, but he's a Jedi, and he has a job to do at which he's actually very good-identifying threats."

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