Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 04_ Backlash - Aaron Allston [135]
Lecersen blinked. “A complicated question.”
“Come, come. Moffs, like Heads of State, deal with complicated questions all the time.”
“Yes, of course.” Lecersen considered. “To be honest, I have given no thought to who might succeed you. But if you’ll give me a little time, I’d be happy to work up a short list for you. And honored that you asked my opinion.”
“Please do. I look forward to hearing what you have to say.”
“Is there any word on your assailant?”
“Only what you’ve heard on the broadcast. His associates are being investigated to within a centimeter of their lives. The conspiracy that he belonged to is doomed, of course. I don’t even have to participate in their destruction.”
Lecersen frowned. “How’s that?”
Fel pressed a virtual button on his desktop. Behind him, on the wall, a large monitor resolved itself into a still holocam image.
It was taken the night of the Pangalactus attack. It showed Han and Leia Solo moving toward the cam, their daughter Amelia between them, each of them holding one of her hands. She was wide-eyed and solemn. The Solos, however, wore expressions of implacable anger. Leia’s fury was obvious and chilling, while Han—Lecersen reflected, not for the first time, that Han Solo, his jaw locked and eyes blazing, perhaps looked angrier than any other living being, Corellian sand panthers included.
Fel glanced back at the image. “The conspirators endangered their daughter, and so made two deadly enemies. I wouldn’t want the Solos after me.”
Lecersen felt the turmoil in his stomach intensify. “No, indeed.”
“Well, thanks for stopping in.”
“Always happy to.” Lecersen rose.
Once the Moff was gone, Fel sat still for several moments, merely drumming his fingers on the desktop.
The door beside and behind him slid open. Jaina emerged and sat on the edge of his desk. “What do you think?”
“He wasn’t prepared to put himself forward as my successor. Which is interesting, because it suggests that he’s not, at this instant, ready to step in for me. Which in turn suggests that he has other plans. But if we assume that he does intend to be Head of State, we also have to presume that he’s not ready to complete his own plans to become Head of State.”
“In other words, if you were to die or abdicate, he’s not in a position to secure his position. Not yet.”
Jag nodded. “Which keeps him on the list of potential conspirators. I’ll bring in the other leading candidates and give them the same speech. See which ones behave as he does. And maybe, just maybe, some of them will get the idea that it’s not a good idea to endanger Amelia Solo.”
Jaina smiled. “There have been times when being Han and Leia Solo’s daughter has been the most exasperating thing in the universe.”
“And other times?”
“A source of great pride. Come to think of it, both conditions apply to being Jagged Fel’s lover.”
He smiled in return. “Ah, the backhanded compliment. Something all the Solos have mastered.”
DATHOMIR SPACEPORT
IT WAS A FINE DAY AT MONARG’S MECHANIC WORKS. THE SUN SHONE outside, but cool winds from the southern coasts kept the temperature reasonable. Monarg had the doors at both ends of his shop open, allowing the breeze to circulate.
And although the little Solo girl had gotten away with a valuable astromech, he was all but done with the repairs to an even more valuable SoroSuub yacht. Newly refitted, repainted, and provisioned, it would fetch a fine price offworld. He’d be living high for quite a while.
From where he sat at his desk, he could not see much other than the rear wall, but a beep from one of his mechanic droids alerted him to a visitor. He spun in his chair.
It was not one visitor but several—Luke and Ben Skywalker, Dyon Stadd, Tarth Vames, and Vestara. And they were not just entering his shop. They stood right behind him. All but Vestara Khai had their arms crossed in an attitude of disapproval.
He cleared his throat. He could not stand up; to do so would be to bump chests with Luke Skywalker and sit right down again. “Can I help you?”
“You can help yourself.