Fate Of The Jedi: Ascension Part 37

He tossed her an unlit lightsaber.

"I believe this is yours."

OFFICES OF MERRATT JAXTON, CORUSCANT.

MERRATT JAXTON, FOR ALL THAT HE ENJOYED BEING THE CENTER OF attention, found that when he needed to he was very good at keeping his head down.

He'd started to wonder if something was going wrong when Lecersen fell silent. He'd known something was going wrong when Bramsin died of so-called natural causes and Treen left within hours of his death.

And when Parova's body turned up ...

He, who had sent the fake Jedi after Admiral Nek Bwua'tu, did not believe it was the work of Tahiri Veila. Or any other Jedi.

There were only two of them left. Three, if you counted Suldar, who was supposed to have been the "new boy" and who had suddenly seemed to be running the show and reducing the number of people he needed to deal with right and left.

He'd liked it when Lecersen was the head of the whole thing-well, the t.i.tular head, though Jaxton knew that the whole thing had been Senator Treen's idea. Now that neither of them was reachable, Jaxton was starting to feel very, very insecure indeed.

He stared at his comlink, turning it over and over in his hand, then finally clicked it.

"Yeah," came the cold, metallic voice.

Jaxton hesitated. He didn't know what he was going to say.

"I don't like this."

"What don't you like?"

"Parova and Bramsin are dead?"

"And we're alive, so?"

Did General Stavin Thaal just not get it? "And what makes you think we won't be next? These blasted Senators, thinking they can control us ... No word from good old Palpatine, either," he added, recalling with distaste the costumed meeting where Lecersen had shown up as Emperor Palpatine.

A pause. "You know, you have a good point. Let's get together and discuss it."

"Where?"

"I'll find you."

Click.

Jaxton stared at his comlink, and for no reason at all, he felt a chill.

The rest of the day pa.s.sed without comment from Thaal. Jaxton went to a local cantina for a drink, then to a restaurant he was known to frequent for dinner, then came home and poured himself a nightcap. He nursed it, watched some holonews, and found himself relieved that no one he knew was reported dead.

There came a knock on his door. He let out a sigh of relief. There was the man, finally.

"Stavin," he said cheerily as he opened the door, "you are one mysterious-"

Stavin Thaal was indeed standing outside his door. So were two other men. Jaxton looked askance at them, and then looked back to Thaal. "Personal bodyguards," Thaal said. "You can't be too careful these days."

"You're telling me," said Jaxton, and waved the men in. "Can I get you something to drink?" he said, heading to the bar. "I've got a fine selection of-"

"Merratt," said Thaal, his mechanical voice oddly quiet.

Jaxton turned around. The two men were standing pointing small, handheld blasters at him. "Fine, fine, I'll bring out the good stuff," he laughed. "Not all that funny, Stavin," he went on, refres.h.i.+ng his own drink.

"I'm afraid it's not really funny at all," Thaal said. "Come sit down at your desk. You're going to take dictation for me."

"You're serious," Jaxton said. Thaal nodded, unsmiling. The men did not lower their blasters. Thinking he could find a way out of this or talk Stavin out of ... whatever plot he had in his head, Jaxton obeyed.

"I've got a datapad here-"

"I'm sure you can find some flimsi and a stylus," Thaal said. Jaxton rummaged around his desk and, sure enough, came up with the requested items. With a shaky hand, using the unfamiliar stylus, Merratt Jaxton began to write.

" 'I leave this note for whoever finds me,' " said Thaal.

Jaxton had gotten as far as whoever. He froze. "What does that mean?" He knew, of course, but he didn't want to believe it. Couldn't believe it.

"Why, son, I'm going to kill you once this note is done."

Jaxton looked up at Thaal and the two other expressionless men. "If I know I'm going to die, then why should I write this note?"

"Because you're going to have a choice about how you die," said Thaal in his horrible droid's voice. "You finish that note for me like a good boy, and I'll make it quick and easy for you. You fight me, your suicide will be so agonizing people will admire you for having the guts to actually go through with it. It's up to you."

Jaxton hesitated, then began to write again. Thaal nodded. "Good. Now, where was I? Oh, right. 'This began as a n.o.ble crusade, for a n.o.ble cause, at least as far as I was concerned. To topple the unjust government as embodied in Natasi Daala. I joined forces with Senator Fost Bramsin and Admiral Sallinor Parova to bring this about.' "

Jaxton paused and looked up at Thaal. "I don't know why this even matters to me," he said, "but for some strange reason, it does. I know why you want me to leave you off the list. But why not implicate Treen and Lecersen, since you're naming names?"

Thaal chuckled. It came out horribly artificial sounding.

"Because they're still alive. If they keep their mouths shut, so will I. Don't even really know what's up with Lecersen, and Treen's a sharp old woman."

Jaxton licked his lips. " ... I could keep my mouth shut."

Thaal shook his head, almost sympathetically. "No, you couldn't, son. Besides, that's a nice tidy list of conspirators right there. Three sounds about right; a Senator and two chiefs-all the bases covered. And all three dead makes it tidier still."

"We can work something out," stammered Jaxton.

"No, son, we can't. It just wouldn't work. It's my business to know beings, and I know that much about you."

He thought about asking Thaal if he could talk to someone, but even as the thought formed, he realized there was no one to talk to. No one who would miss him. He didn't even have a blasted pet that would miss him, like Dorvan did.

"Keep writing," said Thaal.

" 'I cannot continue living, knowing that my fellow conspirators have died for what they believe is right. Soon I will join them.' Now sign it."

"No one's going to believe this," said Jaxton, even as he affixed his signature. "They'll know it's a murder, and they'll find you."

Again Thaal laughed, and Jaxton found himself cringing, ever so slightly, at the sound. "You may be right. Then again"-he nodded to one of his men-"you may not be."

The man leaned down and to Jaxton's shock, offered him the blaster. He stared at it as if it were an exotic animal. He could take it, and probably get off two shots-at least one good one to Thaal-before they took him down. Thaal's tidy little plan would completely unravel and become most untidy indeed.

And that was when Jaxton knew, down to his marrow, that he was a coward after all. Thaal was right. He couldn't have kept his mouth shut if he were interrogated. He'd have cracked, and cracked completely.

He wished desperately now that he'd just walked into Wynn Dorvan's office, sat down, and spilled everything. Cooperation could have saved him. His ambition and ego had doomed him. At least the ones he was implicating were already dead. There was something to be said for that.

He took the blaster and held it quietly, awaiting instructions.

"Now, put it in your mouth," said Thaal. "And then, when you're ready, pull the trigger."

Jaxton stared at the blaster, then slowly did as he was told. His breathing came quick around the muzzle, and he tasted and smelled the tang of metal. Odd, how sharp his senses were, now that they would never be used again. He looked up and straight into Thaal's pale, cold eyes.

Thaal nodded. "I'll watch you go," he said, his voice as gentle as it could be made, hearing the unspoken question.

Jaxton pulled the trigger.

Leia couldn't sleep. She hadn't slept much since they'd placed her in this cell. The mattress was lumpy and old and uncomfortable. Still, she knew that wasn't why she lay awake. She had slept on harder ground, softer hammocks, even in trees and in another, more antiseptic and evil prison.

She couldn't turn off her brain. She kept going over what Eramuth had said about "Club Bwua'tu." About how they thought there were conspiracies-plural-afoot. Eramuth said that both she and Han were now "members of the club," and that she should not despair. "One way or another, my dear," the old Bothan had rumbled, "we're getting you out of here. Do not doubt that."

She didn't. But she doubted that they would uncover the conspirators in time. She doubted that Padnel Ovin would see what was right there in plain sight. She doubted- Leia heard noises, and saw the darkness in the hall lighten slightly. Someone was coming-two someones, two sets of footsteps-and they had glow rods. She sat up, straining to listen.

"... highly unusual, sir," said someone.

"So is the situation, guard," came Padnel's gruff voice. "And Jedi Solo is a highly unusual being. Now open the door and leave us alone, or you'll be looking for new employment."

They appeared at the door. The guard, an annoyed-looking Sull.u.s.tan, shut down the force field, permitted Padnel to enter, reactivated the field, gave them both dirty looks, and departed.

"Rank hath its privileges," said Leia. "What brings you here at this hour? Good news, I hope?"

Padnel, carrying the glow rod, began to pace. "Not at all, really, though it may be good news in the end. For you, at least." He paused and looked at her solemnly. "You think I don't listen. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I do. I thought about what you said, and all that has gone on recently. And I shared your concern with Dorvan. There's apparently a sort of ... club that's sprung up around such concerns as you raised."

Hope rose in Leia, warm and rich and fierce. "Club Bwua'tu," she murmured.

He nodded. "I don't know much about it; don't need to know. Enough that Dorvan and the admiral are involved. Better that way. They share your opinion. About a conspiracy. They had discovered some kind of connection among Bramsin, Lecersen, and Jaxton-"

"The poisoning!" Leia remembered her conversation with Javon Thewles. "It was designed to discredit the GAS. And Parova-"

"Put her people in instead," Padnel finished. "And now she's dead, Bramsin is dead, and Treen and Lecersen have disappeared. That leaves only one."

"General Jaxton," breathed Leia.

Padnel nodded. "That was enough to convince me to plant a small listening device in Jaxton's office. One sensitive enough to catch both ends of a comm conversation. And this afternoon, before Jaxton left for the evening, I recorded a very interesting conversation. I was only able to listen to it just a short while ago."

"What did he say? Who did he talk to?"

"They spoke about Bramsin and Parova being dead, the 'blasted Senators,' and someone he called 'good old Palpatine.' They were going to get together tonight to discuss things. Unfortunately, the person Jaxton contacted was not named, and he used a droid voice to disguise his-or her-own."

"It's got to be Suldar," said Leia. "With everything else that's going on-"

"My thoughts exactly. There's enough on here to bring Jaxton in for further questioning at least."

Leia made a face. "If there was enough for me to be brought in, then yes, I agree."

Padnel looked remorseful and put a hand on her shoulder. "I never doubted you, Leia," he said, "I just thought you were mistaken about the conspiracy."

"That's doubting," Leia said. At the look on his face, she softened. "I understand why you did, though. It sounded almost as ludicrous as the charges brought against me."

"I'll let you know what-" His comlink beeped. "Excuse me a moment," he said, speaking into it. "Ovin. What?" He listened, and his eyes widened. Softly he growled. "I see. Be respectful of the body, but bring it in to the Galactic Senate Medcenter for immediate autopsy. No, no, you were right to contact me. Keep me posted."

Leia grew cold. "Jaxton," she said. He nodded. "Murdered, like Parova?"

He shook his head. "Looks like a suicide. But I don't believe that for a minute."

"Nor do I."

Padnel turned to her and took her hands in his. "Leia, I'm sorry. You shouldn't ever have been brought in here. I thought I was doing the right thing by going along with the Senators and observing, but I should have stopped this the minute I smelled something rotten."

"You did what you thought was best. Who knows, perhaps you actually got me out of harm's way," she said.

"I'd like to hope that. I'd like to think I did something right. But now I intend to keep you out of harm's way." His olive-green flews pulled back from his sharp, jagged teeth in a chilling smile. "I've heard it said that being the Chief of State means when you speak, they have to be quiet. Tomorrow I intend to make them quiet long enough to repair some of the damage I've done. And then-I'm going to knock some heads together."

Despite the direness of the situation, Leia found herself smiling. "You sound just like Han," she said.

"That is perhaps the finest compliment I have ever received," said Ovin. And Leia had to agree.

HIGH LORD WORKAN WAS RATHER PROUD OF HIMSELF.

This political system was so easy to manipulate. One could be physically weak, even unable to use the Force at all, and still rise to power based on being popular and gathering enough beings in one's corner. There were loopholes everywhere, if one knew where to look, and like a pack of anoobas, Sith excelled at finding weaknesses and using them to destroy. What Roki Kem wanted him to do was not only fairly easy, it was even legal.

The Senate had the ability to appoint whomever they chose as interim Chief of State until such time as a formal election could be held. Workan had persuaded the Senate to appoint Padnel Ovin a short time ago. All he needed to do was introduce the motion to appoint Roki Kem instead. With the Jessar's charisma, fame, and the path of goodwill she left everywhere she went, as well as his own resources, he would easily be able to get the three-quarters majority necessary to replace Ovin.

Then it was on to making her Beloved Queen of the Stars, whatever that meant. Workan would, as he always had, handle that as he came to it.

If all went according to plan, and there was no indication that it wouldn't, he would secure the position of Chief of State for Roki Kem by the end of the day. Which would definitely win him favor in her eyes.

Workan had admired and respected Lord Vol, but he had to admit he was enjoying the new turn of events.

The current chair of the Senate, a Chagrian named Nensu Kaatik, stepped forward and read the agenda. Workan sat with his eyes closed, extending himself in the Force, letting it flow through him and carry him to touch each Force presence in this vast chamber. He listened, and when the last item was read and the chair inquired if there was any further business to be put before the Senate, he rose.

"May it please the Senate," he said, fighting the desire to use the Force to make his voice carry and relying solely on technology. "I have urgent business to place before this Senate immediately."

The chair frowned. "The chair recognizes the honorable Senator Suldar from B'nish."

Workan inclined his head and moved his hoverdais forward. He thought, not for the first time, that with the lighting and the uniform color and shape of the daises, from a distance the Senate chamber looked like a ma.s.sive scaled beast.

"It is established that in times of crisis, when an interim Chief of State is in power, the Senate has the right-nay, the duty-to challenge its leaders.h.i.+p and put in place whomever this august body determines is best suited to navigate the crisis," Workan said. He could hear the murmuring already and smiled to himself. "We faced such a crisis recently, and it was I who put forth the motion to nominate an outsider, whom I thought would bring a fresh perspective." He looked around with mock regret. "Unfortunately, I believe that this being, Senator Padnel Ovin of Klatooine, is not the right choice for this time. His connections with the Jedi, and with terrorist activities-I had hoped he would overcome them. But with the recent murder of the acting chief of naval operations, the mourned death of our beloved Senator Fost Bramsin, and the regrettable resignation of veteran Senator Haydnat Treen of Kuat, I believe it is clear that he is not the appropriate leader for such a time. I put forth the motion that we dismiss Senator Ovin and replace him with someone who still brings the freshness of an outside perspective, but who has proven herself a superior, and beloved, leader. I nominate Senator Rokari Kem."