Текст книги "Sacrifice "

Автор книги: Karen Traviss

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twenty-four hours the barracks and the CSF bar would be full of the gossip about how magnificently brave Omas had been. Wirut disappeared into the bedroom while Limm stood guard.

Omas stepped a little closer to Jacen, his face centimeters away, so close that his breath brushed Jacen's skin like a hand.

"You obnoxious, power-crazed, ludicrous little jerk," he said sweetly, with the smile of an indulgent grandfather. "You had Gejjen killed, too, didn't you?"

Jacen waited for him to spit in his face and still smile, but Omas conducted himself impeccably as he left. Wirut walked behind him, blaster visible but not jammed into the Chief of State's back, and Jacen led the way. It was the longest, most awkward turbolift descent that Jacen could imagine. When they reached the lobby, the security guard stared for a moment, put down his holozine, and stood up.

"Sir? What's happening?"

"Would you water the plants while I'm away, please?" Omas said pleasantly. "I'm afraid I'm under arrest."

There was a second GAG transport waiting outside. Wirut and Limm ushered Omas into it, then watched it speed away to GAG HQ. Jacen found that his hands were shaking. It was an effort to take out his comlink.

"Admiral, it's done," he said. "Time for a public announcement."

Wirut pushed back his visor and wiped his face with his glove.

"That," he said, "was the hardest thing I've ever done. Next time, sir, can I volunteer for snatching heavily armed Wookiee psychopaths? It'd be a lot easier on my nerves."

Wirut and Limm joked, but the arrest had crossed an emotional line for them, and it showed. Jacen climbed into the speeder beside them and took a long route through the canyons of buildings, checking for signs that

Coruscant, the heart of galactic democracy, had undergone a silent, bloodless, and thoroughly civilized military coup.

Outside government buildings and bank headquarters, small groups of GA ground forces stood guard. It looked like no more than the routine public order precautions for festival nights, except the uniforms were not the blue of CSF.

"Weird," said Limm.

"Poor old Jori." Wirut sighed. "Poor kid. He was so keen to live up to his granddad."

Jacen rubbed his eyes and realized he was in for another very long day. And the sun wasn't even up yet.

"I won't forget that," he said. "I never will."

chapter thirteen

SENATE BUILDING

Trading on the ISE was suspended in the early hours of this morning when Acting Chief of State Admiral Cha Niathal declared temporary martial law following the shock arrest of Cal Omas. A statement is expected in the Senate within the hour. Meanwhile, other galactic financial centers report brisk trading. KDY "A" shares closed fifty point three credits up on yesterday, and both MandalMotors and Roche Industries ended the day up more than thirty credits.

–Market News: business headlines

Senator G'Sil glanced at the holocams that transmitted Senate debates to every office, restaurant, and public area in the Senate Building, then shook his head, eyes closed for a moment.

"Full house," he said. "You'd better have a good speech ready, Cha.

A really good one."

Niathal adjusted her uniform and prepared to go out onto the Chief of State's platform to address the Senate. Things weren't playing out quite as she'd imagined, but then battles never did, and the political arena was as prone to the fog of war as any fleet engagement.

Jacen Solo, whom she expected to see strutting around the Senate, was keeping a low profile. But she'd see about that. If she was going to be shoved out front to tap-dance for his coup, she'd make sure he was visibly part of their double act. She wasn't taking responsibility for this on her own.

"It's temporary, it's for the duration of the war, and no ordinary citizens will notice an adverse impact on their lives," she said, rehearsing her key messages. "Play a bit of Omas's clandestine meeting footage, wave around the news on Mandalore and Roche, and everyone nods and says, yes indeed, Admiral, we live in dangerous times, please do look after us as an

interim government while the Chief of State's office is thoroughly investigated."

"I like Jacen," G'Sil said, suddenly very quiet. "But is he reliable these days?"

"Reliable for what?"

"I would never have authorized the Gejjen business. It was . . .

extreme."

"It's done. Corellia is wobbling a little, because their assorted lunatic fringes have given us a massive bonus by claiming they did it.

Bothawui has been brought up short, because they probably think we did it but can't believe we had the nerve, and—well, I never thought I'd live to say this, but those ghastly little Mandalorian savages have been wonderfully helpful."

"Cha, I don't want to worry you, but have you noticed they're rearming? With Verpine tech, too?"

"I certainly have. Best news of the week."

"They must teach you something at staff college that's beyond us lesser mortals."

Niathal checked the chrono. She had ten minutes to psych herself up into appearing as a safe pair of hands, reluctant to take the burden of the reins of state and anxious to hand them back as soon as the current unpleasant business was over. Yes, she meant that, too. She wanted the Chief of State's post, but she wanted a genuine mandate to do it; and there was no better way to achieve that than to show she could be a responsible leader in this most extreme of situations.

When she finally ran for office, the electorate would know her by her deeds.

As long as I can keep Jacen on a choke chain, of course, and, he doesn't ruin it for me. If he gets out of hand . . . well, there's always Fett.

"Have you ever kept nuna?" she asked.

"Not in the apartment . . ."

"I'm told they tend to form rival groups within the flock, and they can get very territorial. Squabbles break out. Now, let wild bursas into the coop, and it's bedlam—they go into a killing frenzy, grab as many nuna to eat later as they can, and escape. They don't care which group they eat. That's your Mandalorians."

"It's a lovely analogy, but it's lost on me."

"Forget strategy. Mandalorians don't care who wins. They just want to eat, drink, fight, and maintain their self-image."

G'Sil gave her a long, wary stare. "You're the Supreme Commander. I assume you can assess a military risk."

"You want my assessment? Fett has no intention of expanding his small sphere of influence. Mandalorians might have been a mighty empire a few millennia ago, but they can't handle the difficult business of running a modern, complex democracy. They know it, so they just want to live their primitive warrior fantasy and revel in their reputation."

"Which is earned."

"I accept that they're phenomenal soldiers."

"They kicked out the Empire and the Yuuzhan Vong, without any help from us."

"That still doesn't mean they want to dominate the galaxy. There are fewer than three million of them on Mandalore now, and they don't have anything like a government structure that could organize them well enough to take

over the GA or the Confederation. They'll always be the bursa let loose among nuna. They're opportunistic feeders."

"But Fett's a smart, smart man. Forget the Wookiee braids."

"He wants to see Jacen Solo fall a long way," Niathal said.

"I don't buy fostering galactic chaos just to get back at one man, even if it's Jacen."

"No, we've created our own chaos. Fett's just the distraction act."

Two minutes to go: Niathal sipped a glass of water and rolled her head to loosen her neck. There was nothing worse than a strained voice caused by tight muscles. She needed to sound relaxed, regretful, but authoritative.

"As long as he plays bogeyman, the GA holds together, because the smaller planets are scared the Mandalorians will be back and they'll cling to us for protection."

"Or rush to the Confederation . . ."

"Not if the Confederation buys Fett's arms, and we don't. We can rob him of his neutrality, or at least the appearance of it."

G'Sil continued to look at her as if she'd arrived from beyond the Outer Rim. He was taking this coup—and she was happy to call it that in private —remarkably well. Given his position, she'd expected him to want a piece of the action.

"G'vli, will you run for the Chief of State's office in due course?"

"Will there be a Chief of State?"

"I fully intend to return to elections and civil rule once the war is over."

"Then no, I won't. I'm fine not being where Omas was. If a thing can happen once, it can happen twice." G'Sil steered her toward the access to

the floating platform. "You need to watch your back with Jacen."

"I know," she said. "So I'm neutralizing him now. Start as you mean to go on." The word neutralize had several unfortunate meanings, and judging by the look on G'Sil's face, he'd thought of the worst one. "No, just tactically. Where is he, anyway?"

"He probably had some fingers he needed to break. Let me worry about finding him later." G'Sil followed her onto the platform. "Here we go."

Niathal looked down at her boots as she stepped onto the platform, and when she looked up, the sheer scale of the Senate chamber unsettled her for a split second. It was a blessing: she knew her genuine dismay would come across as humble reluctance. There was nothing worse for a new military dictator than looking too keen.

For a chamber of thousands of delegates—even with the recent secessions and defections—it was remarkably quiet. Her platform drifted serenely into the center of the massive chamber. She was looking into lights and shadows, generally unable to see faces. It was, in so many senses, a theatrical stage complete with blinding footlights.

"Gentlebeings," she began. Formal: strictly formal was the best bet, she calculated. "I never expected to be addressing you in this way, and I find myself barely prepared for it. I greatly regret the need to stand on this platform. But the need has arisen, it will be a need for the shortest period possible, and apart from the temporary leadership of the GA, nothing else will change. I stress that. There is no curfew, no censorship, and none of the other trappings of martial law. Had Chief Omas been taken ill, I would be standing here anyway, and nobody would be panicking. What's happened overnight is no more constitutionally significant than that. I've merely exercised my responsibility as the Supreme Commander to deputize for the Chief of State, on the advice of the GA security services. As soon as the general security situation with the Confederation is resolved, and I expect that to be within the short term, I'll step down and we'll hold elections for the Chief's office."

There wasn't a single lie in there. There was never any need to lie. She meant every word. There was simply information that the Senate didn't have, and everyone went through life with an incomplete picture of the galaxy anyway.

One of the representatives for Kuat signaled to speak.

"When you refer to the security services, Admiral, do you mean Alliance Intel or the GAG?"

Niathal wondered if G'Sil had engineered the question, because it was so perfectly on cue. "I'd like to share some material with you," she said. "So that you understand where the need to act arose."

It was possibly contempt of court to show the images of Omas's meeting with Gejjen; evidence like that would prejudice his chance of a fair trial, but she had a shrewd idea that Omas wouldn't be cleared by a jury, return to work with his reputation intact, and sue the GA for wrongful arrest. In his case, the arrest was verdict and sentence in one.

She gestured for the images to be projected onto the viewing screen on each delegate's platform.

It was gratifying to hear the faint exclamations of surprise as the scene played out, complete with Alliance Intel officers. Niathal displayed a little dignified pain at the moment of betrayal, when Dur Gejjen discussed how to remove her and Jacen from their posts. The silence that followed was perfect.

"So, you'll understand why I felt I had to take advice from the GAG, because Alliance Intel's objectivity may have been compromised by attendance at that meeting," she said. "And while it's not illegal for two heads of state at war to have discussions, it's unacceptable for them to plan the removal of a Supreme Commander without consulting the Security and Intelligence Council."

She hoped they noted that the chair of that council was sitting at her right

hand. It was time for him to do his party piece, so she sat down and let G'Sil have the floor.

"I've got very little to add," G'Sil said. "Except to say that I'm saddened to come to this. A word about the presence of GA troops on the streets alongside CSF officers. This is simply a precaution in case the anarchic elements on Coruscant try to take advantage of the situation. As in any democracy, they have the right to exist and to speak, but if any of them attempt to capitalize on the situation, then the rule of law will be upheld."

"Well, there's no need for the anarchists to overthrow the government now, is there?" said the delegate from Haruun Kal. "You got there first . . ."

"With that in mind," Niathal continued, "I intend to ask Colonel Jacen Solo to act as joint Chief of State with me. A matter of checks and balances, so that the temporary power doesn't rest with one person, and one can subject the other to scrutiny."

She let the comment from Haruun Kal pass. Nobody else picked up on it. By failing to invoke the full range of emergency restrictions she now had the right to impose, she felt she'd sent out a clear message that this really was a case of an embarrassed and reluctant military being hauled in to mind the shop because the civilian head of state had been a very naughty boy. It seemed to have worked. Either the Senate was collectively terrified, or it was 90 percent convinced, 10 percent wary.

She would settle for either.

G'Sil followed her back to her office. She sat down and felt the relief flood her.

"Next?" said G'Sil, and poured two cups of caf from the dispenser.

"We have a breathing space while the Senators panic about their share prices and the Corellian administration flounders like beached daggerts."

"Reopen the stock exchange," she said. "I need to see the finance secretary at some point today to arrange for Treasury intervention if the

"Oh, classic—"

"—and I want Omas's office sealed until further notice."

G'Sil looked mildly surprised. "You're not moving in there?"

"I'm not, and neither is Jacen. It smacks of enthusiasm for power rather than necessary duty. We seal it as it stands, which is best practice in terms of allowing CSF to preserve a potential crime scene."

She tapped the internal comm code for Senate Building Maintenance into her desk keypad. "And nobody fights over whose chair it is."

G'Sil finally gave way to the smile that was trying to cross his face. "And what an elegant way to neutralize Jacen, should he hanker after power. Give it to him to start with."

Ton don't need to know we did a deal. "I don't like having opposing forces approaching from the rear, G'vli. I like them where I can see them."

"That's the first time I've heard you refer to Jacen as . . .

opposing."

"We want the same outcomes," she said carefully, aware of how ephemeral alliances were in this game. "Order, stability, and peace. I don't care for his methods, that's all. Once I manage to teach him that putting citizens in camps and killing prisoners is not the done thing, we'll get on just fine."

"You have to see the Jedi Council, too."

"I'll see Skywalker later, but not the rest of the armed mystics .

. ."

Niathal paused and sent a message to Luke that she wanted to continue the good working relationship he'd had with Omas, and that he would be welcome for an informal discussion. She'd remain cautious, though, because they seemed to represent a third and unelected power, neither civilian nor military, and every time she looked at Jacen Solo she saw just what Jedi could turn into.

"This has been surprisingly civilized," G'Sil said. "The business of the chamber is going on as usual. No riots, no protests, no counterrevolution."

"It isn't lunchtime yet."

"Nevertheless, this is remarkable."

"And we have a war going on. Even if the Corellians are spinning their wheels at the moment, Bothawui isn't. I have crews out there on the front line."

It was simply a statement of fact. She still wore a uniform, and whatever her ambitions the service ethic was very nearly coded into her genes by now. She really did have a war to win and people to bring home alive.

"Oh, you're good," G'Sil said, misreading her totally. "You're very good. Stang, I might even vote for you on the strength of today's showing."

That was the only way Niathal wanted to remain in this post—by election; it made it much easier to hang on to it than being a dictator.

She was also an officer who liked her moral lines, her rules of engagement, completely clear.

Within those, though, she believed in taking the battle to the enemy and pressing home every advantage.

"I look forward to it," she said.

JEDI COUNCIL CHAMBER

It had been a long night, and the morning's news left Luke reeling.

He looked at Mara across the Chamber, noted that her injuries were largely healed, and wondered when she was going to be ready to talk to him about what was making her grind her teeth in her sleep.

Something had got to her, and the fact that she was silent and not raging about it worried him. It meant it was more than Lumiya or Alema.

"Makes you wonder what tomorrow might bring," Kyp said wearily, scratching his head with both hands as if he were shampooing his hair. "A bombshell with every bulletin."

'T haven't always seen eye-to-eye with Omas, but I don't believe he's a security risk." Luke had never handled frustration well, and age hadn't mellowed that. He could see what was happening; he knew his history, and he had no love of military government. Nobody of his generation who'd grown up under the Empire did. "So now we have two threats—an external war, and an internal coup. Where do we concentrate our efforts?"

"Well, Niathal is well within her rights to assume power under the circumstances," Corran said. "So it's not exactly a coup, and much as we might not like it as citizens with a vote, as Jedi we have no business interfering in that."

"Can I say it?" Kyp asked. "Because it's just staring us in the face and nobody's mentioning it."

"Go on . . ."

"Jacen. There, I said it. Jacen, Jacen, Jacen. What in the name of the Force is going on here? Okay, maybe we should have taken him to task when he started kicking down doors with the GAG. Now, overnight, he's busted the Chief of State and taken over. Extreme? Out of control, my friends."

"Has he actually declared himself joint Chief of State?

Personally?"

Cilghal looked up. "Admiral Niathal announced it. We've heard nothing from Jacen."

"Then maybe it wasn't his idea." Luke looked at Mara to catch her eye, but she seemed in a world of her own. "Mara?"

"Sorry." She snapped to attention, blinking. 'T don't see Jacen being dragged kicking and screaming to the big office, somehow.

Regardless of who came up with the idea, he's hardly rushed to decline the honor."

"He's gone to ground," said Kyp. "We've been through a whole twenty-four hours of news bulletins without seeing him. He must be chained up somewhere to keep him away from reporters."

"How would we know?" Corran asked. "He never talks to us, and he's holed up in his cozy GAG bunker when he's not out harassing Corellians."

"Time I went to see him," said Luke. "I mean really see him.

Niathal's sent a message saying she wants to maintain the good relationship between the Jedi Council and the Chief's office. I'm taking her up on that as soon as she can clear her schedule."

Mara seemed to be concentrating on the proceedings again. "If I didn't know Corellia was in dire straits over Gejjen's death, I'd have said it was an outside attempt to destabilize the GA. If he'd still been alive, they'd have moved in on us by now."

It was an interesting thought that suddenly got more interesting in Luke's mind as he rolled it around. Mara could always spot the issue. The two events might have been coincidental, or they might not, but the assassination was tied up with the removal of Omas, and not only because he'd been meeting the Corellian shortly before he died. The crazier news programs were speculating wildly that Omas had been directly involved in