Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 02_ Omen - Christie Golden [47]
“I’d say all you really need to do is keep an eye on Jaina Solo,” Vansyn continued.
Lecersen smiled thinly and took another sip. “Child’s play itself. Jagged Fel may be the nominal head of the Empire, and a disciplined soldier, but he is a pathetic puppy when it comes to matters of the heart. He has no concept of how to properly keep a mistress.”
Lecersen’s thoughts wandered to one such Moff mistress, an infamous one who now ran the Galactic Alliance, and he frowned slightly. He edged down farther into the warm water, letting it soak the tension from him.
She’d been fine enough when Wilhuff Tarkin was alive. He’d known how to keep her properly under his thumb. Now she was causing them no end of difficulties. Female Moffs. What was the Empire coming to?
“Granted, he chose a headstrong one, and I’m not sure who is keeping whom,” Vansyn said. Lecersen laughed out loud at that.
“A nerf bull with a ring through his nose can be easily led,” he said.
“Jaina Solo is doing the leading, not us,” countered Vansyn. “It is unfortunate that he has become taken with a Jedi. Especially one with such a pedigree. He has made his informal and personal relationship with her into a governmental one, and that doesn’t sit well with me … nor many others.”
Lecersen shrugged. The water splashed softly with the gesture. “What you say is true, Vansyn. But if we understand how Solo is leading, we can use that to our advantage. The pup is distracted. You saw him at the last meeting. Kept checking his chrono. He thinks he has brought us in line because he wants to think that, so he can pursue his… extra curricular activities without feeling he is neglecting his duty.”
No, the Moffs had most definitely not been brought to heel the way the Jedi had wanted on that dreadful day when Jacen Solo had been cut down by the very same Jedi female presently under discussion. Han Solo’s blaster threat had been empty—the man did not have the stuff for such a cold-blooded, systematic execution simply for revenge. But Skywalker’s threat hadn’t been empty. It hadn’t even been veiled.
Luke Skywalker had very bluntly stated they had two choices: One, become Hapan prisoners of war and face a war crimes trial for the nanokiller attack the Moffs had launched against the royal family. Or two, the Moff Council could join in reestablishing the Galactic Alliance. Skywalker had appointed Jagged Fel on the spot. It had been ease itself to agree to the second option. The first was hardly viable.
But that did not mean the Moffs would stop looking out for themselves. It was good to have gone from the “Imperial Remnant” to “Empire” again, but what exactly did that mean? How to make it more than an empty title? That was the puzzle Moff Lecersen had been gnawing on daily.
“Patience is a virtue, my friend. Let Fel carry on this little love affair. Passion burns hot and fast. It makes mistakes and clouds judgment. And when his judgment is cloudiest … we will be there to take advantage of it.”
Opportunities were everywhere, all the time, for sharp minds to find. Like credcoins dropped on a pavement. And Lecersen had a very sharp mind. There were so very many enemies to set at one another’s throats.
Daala was already doing a very good job of alienating the Jedi. Lecersen didn’t think he could have done any better. The Jedi, in turn, were doubtless up to something. He wasn’t sure what. Yet. But he did not think for an instant that the elegant, courteous Kenth Hamner spoke for