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RESIDENCE OF THE GALACTIC EMPIRE HEAD OF STATE, CORUSCANT

ON JAG’S WALL MONITOR, MOFF LECERSEN LOOKED HIS USUAL BRISK, intelligent, forthright self, and his voice across the monitor speakers was crisp and commanding. “Jagged Fel’s decision to attend the recent Jedi religious observations was, in and of itself, ill advised. But I did not imagine at the time that it was a prelude to his announcement yesterday. The idea that he would speak out in favor of the Jedi Temple’s unprecedented and illegal action against Chief of State Natasi Daala is an outrage. The woman is a hero of the Galactic Alliance and the Galactic Empire, and I feel that Jagged Fel has doomed the reunification process with his hasty, poorly considered words.”

Jag nodded—not in agreement with the Moff’s sentiments, but in appreciation of Lecersen’s verbal strategy. Not once had Lecersen referred to him as Head of State Fel, part of what was obviously a measured effort to weaken, in the public mind, the very notion that Fel was the legitimate head of the Empire. Referring to Kenth Hamner’s funeral as a religious ceremony and to the Jedi Order as the Jedi Temple would enhance, ever so slightly, the impression in the minds of the populace, especially that of the Empire, that the Jedi were religious fanatics rather than warrior-scholars.

The image on the monitor switched to a lean older man with soft, kindly eyes. He was dressed in Imperial Moff grays. He spoke, but the sound over the monitor reverted to a newscaster for a moment. “Not all Imperial representatives have taken a hard-line stance against the Head of State’s message of support. Moff Getelles of Antemeridias is one of a vocal minority supporting the Jedi action.”

Then the old man’s voice cut in: “Natasi Daala has been an erratic officer, a laser cannon with a malfunctioning actuator if you will, since she was an ensign in the Imperial Navy, and her recent actions bear out this diagnosis. Of course she is a hero—she has fought all her enemies, real and imagined, with bravery and ferocity. But she needs to be held, and cured, before ever being allowed to take up any sort of command again. The Alliance was foolish to elevate her to a position of power.”

The image switched to another Moff, this one younger than Lecersen, lean and dark-haired, a thin mustache on his lip, a touch of nervous energy to his manner. He, too, wore Moff grays. The narrator’s voice returned. “But opinions like those of Moff Porrak Vansyn seem to dominate the Moff Council.”

The Moff’s voice cut in: “The ousting of Chief Daala can only be interpreted as a slap in the face of Imperial–Alliance relations. Who’s in charge of the Alliance now? The Jedi, the most virulently anti-Imperial organization in history. Which makes Jagged Fel, child of the Chiss, the most anti-Imperial head of the Empire in history.”

The monitor view cut back to the narrator, a red-skinned Twi’lek female. Jag tapped a control on his desk to mute the sound. He’d seen and heard enough.

A bell alerted him that his secretary outside wanted his attention.

“Yes?”

“Jedi Solo to see you.”

Jag grinned and checked his chrono. “Tell her that I expected her six seconds ago. Then let her in.”

The door slid open and Jaina marched in, a frown on her face. “That’s not funny.”

“I timed it from the moment my press conference was broadcast.”

The door slid shut behind Jaina. She moved over to sit on the arm of his chair. “Maybe I was caught up in speeder traffic.”

“Of course.”

“Jag, what do you think you’re doing? Speaking out in support of the Jedi? Now you’ve got the entire Moff Council jumping down your throat, and the participants in the reunification effort, who’d been looking for some guidance, are scurrying away from you in all directions.”

Jag sighed. “What I’m doing is my job. Some response on the part of the Head of State’s office was called for, especially since I’m here at the moment, not back in Imperial space. And what kind of response am I going to give? How about the truth?