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"I agree that we should take Fondor out of the game sooner rather than later."
"Is that a yes to formally approaching the Imperial Remnant?"
"It'll make us look as if we can't handle the job on our own, but-yes, we're at overstretch. I can't complain, having nagged you about that so often."
"Excellent, "Jacen said. He seemed as pleased as a child being told he could hold a party and invite friends. "I'll send Tahiri Veila to see Pellaeon."
"Haven't we got a more seasoned officer free to do the job?"
"She can be very persuasive. Much tougher than she looks, too."
"Very well, but next time you want her to play with cannons-make sure she's a member of the Defense Force. Give her a commission. Enlist her, if you don't think she's officer material. But make sure she understands wars are not for civilians."
Jacen's guard seemed as down as it ever would be. They'd argued, after a fas.h.i.+on, admitted they disliked each other, and yet reached an agreement; all mistrust seemed to have been aired. Niathal slid in her knife.
"What kind of Jedi are you, Jacen?" she asked. "Because my meetings with the Jedi Council were never quite so target-oriented and ruthless."
"I don't do things their way, it's true."
"Are you a Sith?"
Jacen's loss of composure was always betrayed by his eyes. He could control the rest of his face and his body lan-guage-Niathal knew human psychology almost as well as Mon Cals' now-but there was always something in his eyes when he was caught out. She couldn't even pin it down beyond a slight flicker. But whatever it was, she saw it now.
"What do you know about Sith?" he asked, all quiet rea-son.
"Oh, not much. I know Palpatine was a Sith, and he was a brilliant tactician-no quarter given, all exits sealed, the kind of total war that I could never see Master Skywalker waging in an eternity. Which is why I ask, because your ability to see the whole picture reminds me of that."
The first sentence was true; the second was a lie, of course.
"Yes, "Jacen said quietly. "I'm a Sith."
"We should teach Sith tactics at the academy, then, "said Niathal, knowing that she would probably rather have the Yuuzhan Vong back instead.
Jacen gave her that patronizing smile that said he didn't think she understood what was happening and pitied her for being so inadequate.
That was fine. She was pleased with her progress, and hoped he detected that and misin-terpreted it as basking in his temporary approval.
"I'll brief Tahiri, "he said, and left.
Niathal suspected that Tahiri was already on her way, but it didn't matter. She sat looking at the holochart and wondering how an Imperial Moff might see it, what temp-tations it might suggest. Had Pellaeon not still been running Bastion, the Remnant might have already been in the war, or at least circling the battlefield looking to take ad-vantage of the chaos. But he was in his nineties and wouldn't live forever, so perhaps managing their ambitions now would prevent them boiling out of the Braxant sector in a few years' time like kids let out of school, bent on mischief.
I hate it when you might be right, Jacen...
"Admiral, "said the droid, "Captain Shevu asks if you can spare him five minutes."
"Yes, show him in." Niathal shut down the holochart and had the feeling she might need to erase a little of the droid's memory. "If anyone calls, tell them I'm in a pro-curement planning meeting."
Shevu wasn't the kind of officer who popped in for a chat. Niathal had almost expected him since Luke Sky-walker had identified him to her as a potential ally, and he hadn't wasted any time; considering he was the most senior officer in Jacen's personal elite, 967 Commando of the Galactic Alliance Guard, he was taking a huge risk-and Jacen couldn't have made a worse-placed enemy.
She gestured to him to take a seat and wondered who would say it first.
"It's all right, "she said. "I sweep the office for surveillance devices every time I enter it."
Shevu slid a small scanner out of his pocket and aimed it at various points around her office before looking a little more relaxed.
"So do I."
"So we understand each other."
"I think so."
"What can I do for you?"
"I need to carry out forensics tests on your colleague's StealthX."
He didn't say Jacen. This was a man used to giv-ing others very little to use against him. "Is there any way I can get access to it, uninterrupted, for a few hours?"
"He's gone to brief his new minion for a mission to Bastion."
Niathal ran through all the routine procedures a StealthX would undergo and why. Jacen's was one of the few that the Jedi pilots hadn't taken when they withdrew. "How urgent is this?"
"We should have done it three months ago, "Shevu said. He mouthed Mara at her. "Might turn up nothing, of course."
So it wasn't just Ben who thought Jacen had been involved in Mara's death, then. Even though Luke had told Niathal, the idea seemed far more shocking coming from an objective outsider-a professional investigator-like Shevu.
"If you do it, "Niathal said, "won't he sense that you've been in the vessel?"
"That's why I'm getting a droid to do it."
"A GAG unit?"
"No, a CSF one. Leave me to worry about scamming the identichips."
"Very well, Captain, I'll arrange for the ground crew droids and personnel to be told it needs a special examination-checking for canopy seal integrity, fuel leaks into the c.o.c.kpit, whatever I can think of. In fact, let's do all the s.p.a.ce-capable vessels the GAG has, too, to make it look convincing. You don't have that many."
"Thank you, Admiral."
"And we'd better come up with a good cover story in case anyone compliments the Guard on their extra attention to safety standards, and it reaches His Celestial High-ness's ears..."
"A few months ago, "Shevu said, "I'd have expected him to know all about it right away. He was hands-on with his troops. But he's taken his eye off the little people now, and just focuses on the big players. We'll use that."
"You know how dangerous it is to go after him, don't you?" Niathal said, slightly ashamed that she wasn't lead-ing this quiet revolution against Jacen.
"Not half as dangerous as it'll be if I don't, "said Shevu.
OYU'BAAT TAPCAF, KELDABE.
"What can I possibly teach you, Jedi?" Fett asked.
At any other time, Jaina Solo's plea would have been amusing-no, satisfying. There was no humor to be had from this. A voice inside Fett still said that he should personally make that barve Jacen pay for what he had done to Ailyn, but he'd made up his mind when he saw his daughter's body that his revenge would need to be more substan-tial, more complete, the kind he should have planned when his father was killed in front of him. Jedi had robbed him of what little family he had, and now they expected him to help them clean up their own mess.
"You've killed and captured more Jedi than anyone, "Jaina said, looking like the words were choking her.
"Oh, I don't know.... some of my brothers racked up a pretty good score back in the day."
She didn't react. "Jacen and I are matched in terms of Force strengths. But he's picked up training in Force tech-niques I don't even understand, so my best chance of taking him is to use skills he doesn't have. And I'm pretty sure you never gave him the top ten Mandalorian tips on Jedi busting."
"Only if he paid me, "said Fett. "But what do you care about Ailyn?"
"It's not only your daughter he's killed." Jaina was doing a good job of looking desperate, losing that steady gaze for just a moment. She was desperate. Fett could taste it. "He might even have been involved in Mara Skywalker's death."
"Ah, so that's when you decide he needs stopping." He was totally unsurprised by the idea, just taken aback that Jaina had come here.
Families feuded; no shock there. "When it's Jedi getting killed."
Beviin hauled himself onto a bar stool and put his helmet to one side while he thumbed through his datapad.
"He kills his underlings, too, Mand'alor." He held out the pad so that Fett could see the message from one of his long list of informants.
Coruscant wasn't half as far from Mandalore as it thought it was. "Look, Ma, no hands. He's learning to break necks with the Force. Some lieutenant called Tebut, and it's the talk of the fleet-well, the people I know in the fleet, anyway. He's so adorable."
"Just like old times, "Fett said. "Except I almost liked Vader."
Jaina's face fell slightly, as if she hadn't known about Jacen's latest victim. She didn't accuse him of lying to wind her up, either, because they both knew what Jacen had become. It was funny how victims mattered more when they had names. Fett resisted the urge to remind her that beings in all the places that Jacen had attacked had names, too.
"You sent the crushgaunts, "said Jaina. "So we took that as a big hint."
"Try ten tons of high-spec thermal detonator."
"We want him alive."
"Alive's always more complicated. Only do alive if they pay extra, Jedi."
Fett laid his blaster on the counter and removed his helmet two-handed. He was more comfortable revealing his face now. Up to a few months earlier he wouldn't even have let his own men see him without the helmet, except Beviin, but he'd seen the look on Han Solo's face when the man had looked into his eyes close-up for the first time. He could read Solo's reaction-that the cold, implacable, toughened durasteel helmet didn't conceal a heart of gold, just more durasteel, more cold, and less heart. If they wanted to see a happy and well-adjusted Mandalorian under the armor, then they could go admire Beviin.
Fett watched Jaina's eyes take him in.
"If I don't do it, "she said, "I don't think anyone else can."
Beviin was used to playing a double-act with Fett at times like this-nice Mando, nasty Mando. He slipped into the role without even needing a cue while Fett just stared into Jaina's face, testing her nerve.
"You've got a lightsaber, lady, and Jacen Solo doesn't have beskar'gam, "Beviin said. "What can we possibly teach you? Ambush?
Blaster master cla.s.s?" He drew his ancient beskad, the traditional Mandalorian iron saber, halfway out of its hilt. "My handy Vong-splitting technique?"
Jaina's eyes never left Fett's. "Beskar is your special iron, yes?
The metal the crushgaunts were made from."
"Available at all good arms dealers.h.i.+ps now, "Beviin said cheerfully. "We've got a lovely new supply. Is this all you really want?
Just a few tips on whacking the bathrobe brigade?"
"Fett, "Jaina said, undistracted, "you can teach me to bring down Jedi. You've done it often enough."
Fett counted two beats. "And end the war just when our economy's getting back on its feet?"
"You'd sacrifice whole worlds for your own ends?"
"You sacrificed Mandalore to the Vong for your own ends."
"I'm sorry we didn't give you the reconstruction aid we should have, Fett. I'm not proud of that. But can't you see what Jacen's going to do if he carries on? I need to stop him before he consolidates his power."
She wouldn't back down, he gave her that much. If Sintas hadn't been back from the dead, with all the unfolding misery that went with it, Fett might have found training Jaina Solo as near to enjoyable, as near to sweet revenge, as he'd come in decades.
Do it. Jacen Solo needs removing, because there'll still be plenty of business in his wake, and there's no irony finer than the Jedi elite fighting their own. Twin-on-twin com-bat, just like the Vong boys always wanted. Shame most of 'em are too dead to enjoy it.
But if he really listened to the unquiet voice in his mind, and didn't slap it into silence, he heard what it was whis-pering: that the more the war spread, the more likely it was that Shalk and Briila might see their father killed in action. No kid deserved to go through what Fett had.
Mando'ade fight, always have. 'What's wrong with you?
What was wrong was that they were Beviin's grand-children, and Beviin and Medrit had adopted the kids' mother-Dinua-when her own mother was killed fighting the vongese with Fett. They'd all had enough of bereave-ment. Fett's whole life was tangled in orphans and unlived lives and moral debts.
He looked Jaina up and down. She was small, and her smooth hands said that she'd never had to build an en-trenchment with them. But she was a Jedi-he could treble her weight and reach based on that alone-and she was going after her brother whether Fett trained her or not. He could see it in her eyes; a little fear, maybe not of him, and shame that she'd even had to ask the favor. It clearly stuck in her throat to beg her father's old enemy for anything, but she was going to tough it out to get a necessary job done.
Fett respected that. It was the first lesson any bounty hunter needed to learn: to forget the emotional baggage and focus solely on an objective.
If I'd been around for Ailyn, I'd have trained her to fight, to look out for herself, maybe to hunt Jedi, too. Every Mando trains their kids, even other folks' kids. They say you're not a man unless you do.
Shysa's dying voice was back in his head a lot lately after being silent for so long. If you only look after your own hide, then you're not a man. It joined the chorus that nagged him most days, all advising him on what he ought to do. All his dead were coming back to haunt him in one form or another.
"Okay, I'll do it, "said Fett. "And it's going to cost."
"I wasn't asking for charity." Jaina raised a withering eyebrow-she was Leia's girl, all right-but her shoulders relaxed a fraction. She took a very large-denomination credit chip from her flight suit's breast pocket and held it between neatly manicured fingertips. "Not even vengeance gets in the way of business, does it, Fett?"
"That's your first lesson, Jedi. I'll bill you for it later." Fett didn't need the credits, but he had his self-respect to consider, and she needed to hang on to hers. It was going to get pretty battered. "But let's avoid the tax bill. What else can you do to earn your keep?"
"I'm a fighter pilot. But I'm pretty handy with mechani-cal stuff, too."
"We're all pilots here, "Fett said. "But we can always use mechanics. Lots of exiles coming back, infrastructure creaking under the load. You'll be useful."
Fett put on his helmet and turned to go. Jaina called after him.
"When do we start?"
"We already have. I'll be back tomorrow. Take a room here and get a good night's sleep."