Star Wars_ The New Rebellion - Kristine Kathryn Rusch [35]
The members agreed. Leia called an official vote, and then moved to other business. But as she did, she couldn’t stop a chill from running up her spine.
Perhaps this was what her unseen enemy wanted. A rapid change in the Senate. Disorientation, destruction, and a sudden increase in new faces would cause fragmentation.
Fragmentation existed as Senator Palpatine took over the Old Republic Senate.
It would be up to Leia to prevent such a takeover from happening again.
Femon sat in her office on Almania. Death masks from a dozen different cultures covered her walls. Red, gold, blue, some with mouths open in agony and others looking serene, they all shared an eerieness that she had once found comforting.
She did no longer.
She had almost wiped the makeup from her face upon her return from Pydyr, but that would have been a clear sign that she no longer believed in Kueller. His hesitation in continuing the fight would be their downfall. He had said he wanted to replace the New Republic with a government of his own. She had believed him from the moment she met him.
The New Republic was weak, he said. They allowed too many threats to their own people. They spent too much time legislating things that could not be legislated and too little time effecting change.
Femon’s family had died six years ago, when the Eye of Palpatine swept over their planet. The Imperial star-ship operated on an old computer program whose mission had been established by the Emperor himself. Femon’s family had been killed in the crossfire as they tried to save others being lured onto the ship. Sure, the New Republic eventually stopped the Eye of Palpatine, but too late to save Femon’s loved ones.
The New Republic allowed too much Imperial equipment to remain on conquered planets. Several times, the Republic had allowed former Imperials, trying to reestablish their government, to threaten peaceful worlds. Too many times. The New Republic had never gone for the kill, had never executed those directly involved, had never done all that needed to be done to establish their own government firmly.
Kueller had said that the New Republic’s inability to destroy its enemies was the sign of a fatal weakness. He said it didn’t matter who ruled the galaxy as long as that rule was accomplished with an iron fist.
Now he was exhibiting the same weakness he had once attributed to the New Republic.
Femon could no longer support him.
She had pushed, on Pydyr and before, for him to strike swiftly and decisively. He had the power to do so. But he wanted to toy with Skywalker and Organa Solo.
He acted like a man who wanted revenge, but for something she didn’t completely understand.
It didn’t matter anymore. He was going to spend two more days on Pydyr, cataloging his wealth and meeting with his spies. Two days was more than enough time for her to take the decisive action he had failed to make.
She had the knowledge, the equipment, and the codes. She even had the ability to get rid of Kueller.
He had left himself wide-open on Pydyr.
By tomorrow, Kueller’s death mask would be real.
Twelve
The oily, metallic smell of the maintenance bay reminded Luke of days spent repairing his uncle’s speeder on Tatooine. He used to love hunching over equipment, looking for the small variances that would improve speed or accuracy. Another world. Another time.
Artoo moved silently behind him, inching closer the deeper they went into the bay. The Orders and Requisitions area had told Luke to come down here; all they had been able to confirm was that his X-wing was receiving routine maintenance as requested.
The main bay was empty except for several disassembled X-wings. Artoo wheeled his way toward the double maintenance doors and whistled.
“All right, Artoo,” Luke said. “Ill go there if I can’t find anyone. But let’s wait.”
His patience was rewarded a moment later when a young blond man—a boy, really—in mechanic’s clothing sauntered out of the back. He was wiping his hands on a formerly