Luke felt inexplicably ashamed. “I couldn’t.”
“I know. We come from different schools of justice, don’t we?”
“Sweetheart—”
“She’s not your father, Luke. There’s nothing good left in her to redeem. She’s a threat that needs to be taken out, and that’s what I’m trained to do, and you’re not. Forget this take her alive if possible garbage. The only way anyone’s taking her is dead.”
Luke had had a feeling Mara might say that. He knew when she was building up to something. She might have thought she could keep things from him, but he knew her well enough by now to see the cogs grinding and the plan forming.
He’d missed his chance with Lumiya. He wouldn’t get another.
“You’re telling me you’re going after her.”
“You might tag along if you could be trusted not to go soft on her.” Mara let him go and looked embarrassed. Her cheeks were flushed. “You can have Alema. She needs a serious attitude readjustment with a lightsaber, too. It’s not as if we haven’t got enough kill-crazy stalkers to go around.”
No matter what happened, Luke knew he didn’t have that assassin’s ability to kill someone who wasn’t trying to kill him right there and then. If he had …
So Ben wasn’t the only one navigating a moral maze. Luke had been doing it for decades, but the maze was only acquiring more twists and turns each year.
“Let’s see how much Jacen perks up with Lumiya gone,” he said. Wait, did I just bless an assassination? “And with Alema out of the way, then Leia and Han can come back into the fold, and we can face this war as a family again.”
Mara patted his cheek with a regretful smile and set a droid on cleaning the dishes. She spent the rest of the afternoon assembling and checking an array of weapons that definitely didn’t come from a civilized age.
“I never knew you had one of those,” he said, pointing to a blaster that had the widemouthed muzzle of a grenade launcher. “How are you planning to use it?”
“With a flechette cartridge. Let’s see her try a lightwhip on that.”
“Do you want to take my shoto?”
“You offering?”
“Good-luck token, maybe.”
“Under-the-rib-cage token, more like. Unless that’s all durasteel, too.”
This was his wife. Sometimes he caught a glimpse of the woman she once had been, and she was a stranger for a second or two.
“How are you going to track her? She hides very well.”
“I can hunt very well.” Mara took the shoto hilt and spun it like a blade. “A little bait, a little investigation, and a little Force help.” She ignited the energy beam. “Plus, if Alema is trailing after her, as seems to be the case, then one of them is going to slip up and show herself.”
“Lumiya doesn’t slip up.”
“Well, she’s not running the galaxy right now, so I guess she does sometimes …” Mara spun the shoto into the air and caught it by the hilt as it fell. “And she keeps showing up lately, so I’ll be ready.”
“Just keep me informed where you are, okay?”
“You’ll know.” Mara gave him her best I-know-what-I’m-doing grin. “And who better to go after a former Emperor’s Hand than another one?”
“You did that before …”
“And that was before I had a son to worry about.” The grin faded. “I’m much more dangerous now that I have a cub to protect.”
Luke had no doubt about that. But it was the first time in his life that he regretted not killing someone when he’d had the chance.
chapter four
To: Chief of Defense Logistics
From: Supreme Commander, Galactic Alliance Defense Force
CC: Chief of State; OC GAG; Head of Defense Procurement
Re: Fleet supply and procurement concerns
The shortfall in supplies in theater and the failure of equipment to meet standards are intolerable. You are to give Colonel Solo, OC GAG, every cooperation in resolving this situation as rapidly as possible. This is to be your top priority, and Colonel Solo is authorized to use any means necessary to achieve it.
—Admiral Cha Niathal, SC GADF
DEFENSE PROCUREMENT AND SUPPLY AGENCY, CORUSCANT
“Are you sure?”
Jacen had no reason to disbelieve a legal-analyst droid. Metal lawyers were even more meticulous than flesh-and-blood ones. HM-3 clunked along beside him as they ambled up the apparently interminable corridor to the offices of the head of procurement, explaining the hurriedly assembled data as they went. Jacen believed in understanding the enemy, and that meant grinding through the tedium of small print. He was set on taking a lightsaber to a planet-sized ball of red tape.
“Yes, sir, this is routine.” HM-3 reminded him a little of C-3PO—humanoid in shape, with a necessarily pedantic personality—but he was a sober dark gray and had a reassuring air of solid professional authority. “A piece of legislation that’s overdue for reform. Would you like the full explanation, or a simplified lay-being’s version?”
“Consider me as lay as they come.”
“As the legislation stands, it takes the agreement of the Defense Council to change the regulations on procurement. It’s designed to stop civil servants from bending the rules to line their pockets. Or to stop anyone from commissioning an entire army and its accompanying fleet and weapons without the Senate’s knowledge, which I do believe happened not so long ago … you might want to look back at the final years of the Republic, sir.”
Jacen mulled that over and tried to strip it down to basics. “So Senators have to vote on what flimsi to purchase and what flavor of dry rations to serve to the troops. Monumental waste of time and expense, if you ask me.”
“I admit it involves top-level decision makers in very low-level decisions, sir. But it’s the law. Every time you want to change something about supplies, or any other minor administrative issue, you need Chief Omas or Admiral Niathal or someone else equally senior to rubber-stamp it. It’s the same for other departments—health, education, all of them.”
HM-3 seemed apologetic. Jacen had little patience with people who found comfort in impenetrable rules and ritual: He wanted things done.
“I don’t want to take every complaint about hydrospanners and fuel inductors through committees.” How did I ever become the procurement go-to guy? Is Niathal sidelining me? Never mind. I’ll learn a lot. “Is there a way around this?”
“Actually, there is.”
“Go on.”
“It’s a simple matter of giving appropriate officers of the GA—in the most general sense—the power to change regulations. To remove the requirement for every cough and spit to be dealt with by Senators.”
“How do we do that?”
“By removing the requirement for approval by Defense Council members. Shall I draft an amendment, sir?”
“How does that work?”
“I draft a request for a change in the existing law to relieve regulatory burdens, so that order-making powers can be devolved to appropriate persons such as senior military officers and ministers of state without the need to refer the issue to committees, councils, or even the full Senate.” HM-3 shuddered. It was a very human touch. “Give them something to debate, and the more trivial it is, the more hours they’ll spend on it, because they can grasp the small concepts better, you see.”
“Yes, but what happens to the amendment? And how long is that going to take?”
“If I table it today, then it goes before the weekly Policy and Resources Council in two days’ time, and, as an appropriate person who already has the Chief of State’s sanction, you can start changing what you need the next day.”
Jacen clasped his hands behind his back and thought about it. This was making a new law to allow him to change laws.
Bizarre.
“I wonder how much the Defense Department spends on carpeting,” HM-3 said peevishly, scanning the floor. Droids preferred smooth surfaces. “Here’s one area wher
e they could economize.”
As he walked, Jacen was calculating how many simple decisions were mired in approvals, but he had the sensation of someone trying to get his attention. It was wholly in his head: he wondered if it was the voice again, and then realized it was his common sense screaming to be heard.
You’re changing laws about changing laws. Think about that.
Jacen had only a vague idea about what use he might make of that beyond getting supplies moving, but it struck him as a promising area to address.
“What would I be limited to?” he asked.
“Well, there has to be a fail-safe in the wording or you’ll never get P and R to agree to it, but if I were to cap the scope of this, say that the existing budget can’t be exceeded, then that would satisfy them.”
Legislation was terminally boring. No, it should have been. But something in it was forming a hard ball of an idea in Jacen’s mind. “Would it be possible to word it so that if I come across any more stupid red tape in the process, I can change that, too? Even if I don’t know where I’m likely to find it? I don’t want some jobsworth holding up vital supplies because I didn’t specify the right subsection of some obscure regulation.”
“That would make it somewhat … open-ended.”
“But it’s just administration. It’s not the constitution or a common charter.”
HM-3 ground his gears quietly. “I’ll word it generically so that you can change any administrative procedure you need to. The other fail-safe is that only authorized individuals can make use of this, and that can be limited to whomever the Chief of State decides. So there’ll be no spending sprees on secret armies, and only a few very visible, accountable people can make use of it. That will reassure the P and R members.” HM-3 went silent for a moment, consulting his agenda link. “I do believe the day after tomorrow is a very, very busy day for P and R, sir. I think the amendment will get through rather more quickly than usual.”
It was a good day to bury the Legislative and Regulations Statute Amendment. Jacen smiled.
“You’ll have to tell me more about how this fits in with the emergency measures legislation that Chief Omas already enacted.”
“Full explanation, or—”
“—the lay-being’s executive summary, please.”
“The three of you can do anything you need to for the duration of the war. With Admiral Niathal, you are effectively a triumvirate. I have yet to hear Senator G’vli G’Sil take note of that, despite his position as head of the Security Council. The Defense Council is simply nodding everything through—when it actually meets, of course.”
The thought took Jacen aback. He had his own plans for upending the galaxy, but they were large-scale, strategic, and focused on order, justice, and the benign application of military might. The petty minutiae of bureaucracy had never crossed his mind as a weapon in the battle for order.
He’d spent five years learning the most arcane Force techniques in the galaxy, but—again—he didn’t have to use a single Force skill to gain power this time. It was simply a matter of using psychology to manipulate people around him.
This is what makes Jedi weaker and lazier. They instantly resort to Force techniques, without thinking.
HM-3 didn’t have to remind him to look at the fall of the Republic. In his desire to understand the environment that had turned his grandfather from Anakin Skywalker into Darth Vader, he’d examined that final decade. Palpatine seemed to have grabbed most of his power by brilliant manipulation and understanding of people’s weaknesses, not simply by channeling the power of the dark side.
Jacen and the droid reached the mighty carved doors of the procurement center. They were almost as fine as the doors to Chief Omas’s office. No—they were actually more opulent. Jacen turned to his infallible legal adviser.
“Do you think it’s wrong that we’re effectively a triumvirate, Aitch-Em?” Jacen asked. “Undemocratic?”
“I’m not programmed for right and wrong, sir.” HM-3 sounded a little disappointed, as if Jacen hadn’t fully understood the complexity of his art. “I can tell you only what’s legal and illegal, because they have definitions. Right has no parameters. Justice doesn’t, either, nor good. Flesh has to make those decisions.”
“Flesh makes a different decision on those every day, my friend.” Jacen put his hand on the controls, and the splendid relief of an ancient Coruscanti cityscape split into two to admit him into the procurement offices.
I can change a law to let me change laws.
But can I use the law that lets me change laws to change that law itself?
He thought for a moment that he was enjoying a few childish seconds of playing at circular logic. Then it struck him he’d just had an insight of significant proportions.
“Colonel Solo,” said the head of the procurement agency. Tav Vello was an edgy human male who looked in need of a good meal. “I’ve tasked one of my assistants to investigate the shortages. It might simply be a case of delays in the process.”
“Is there anyone ahead of the fleet or the GAG in this line?” Jacen asked.
“Our suppliers do have other clients.”
“I hope they’re on our side.”
“We source our equipment from allies.”
“Are your people moving as fast as they can?”
“Of course they are, Colonel Solo. We’re also looking for ways to streamline the process.”
Jacen smiled. “So am I.” He looked around the office. It wasn’t gold-plated, but he was expecting to see some evidence of lack of frugality. “Now, about the cannon service packs. The parts that need swapping out frequently. I asked for an explanation of why there have been so many misfires.”
Vello consulted his datapad with the air of a man with a very good defense, or at least a robust excuse. “We ran random sampling on those packs yesterday for all the main cannon specs, and the service packs we buy are adequate.”
“But we don’t want adequate. We want best.”
“We do have budget constraints, sir.”
“Is this decision made by a department?”
“There’s a senior purchasing officer, yes.”
Jacen knew there was only one way to focus people who didn’t quite understand what adequate meant in the field. He turned to the droid. “Aitch, under the current powers, is there a mechanism by which I can co-opt civilian staff to carry out research?”
HM-3 hummed on the threshold of Jacen’s normal hearing for a few seconds. “Yes, sir.”
“Is there any restriction on location and conditions?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Jacen was starting to enjoy the rich scope for inventiveness that regulations gave him. They didn’t limit his options at all: they created new ones. He started to see the joy of the letter of the law. “I’d like to meet the chief purchasing officer who signed off on the cannon packs.”
Vello looked slightly bemused. “I take responsibility for what my staff do, sir.”
“That’s very commendable, but I really want to understand the process, and that means getting to know the people. Understanding of the other person’s situation is the key to this, I think.”
Vello, still looking bewildered, went to summon the purchasing officer via his desk comm.
“No, that’s quite all right,” Jacen said. “I’ll go to his office.”
HM-3 made an inscrutable clicking sound as the three of them took the turbolift to the purchasing floor. They stepped out of the cab into an open-plan office that could have accommodated wandering herds without trouble. Good. Jacen wanted an audience. Hearts and minds.
“Let me introduce you to Biris Te Gaf,” said Vello. “He’s our senior purchasing officer for engineering support.”
Te Gaf was visibly nervous, and his staff and co-workers—mainly humans, but Nimbanese, Gossams, and Sy Myrthian, too—feigned work while watching discreetly. Jacen could feel the pervading anxiety throughout the floor. Gaf offered a da
mp hand for shaking, and Jacen turned on his full charm. Te Gaf had a lot of data about why the cannon pack was fit for the job. It was a very good price, he told Jacen.
“But we have misfires and various problems to iron out,” said Jacen. He checked that everyone could hear him, judging their attention by the close-range ripples in the Force and their body language. “I’d really like your help on this. I’m asking you to do some evaluation of the cannon pack.”
“Of course, Colonel Solo. Anything I can do to help.”
HM-3 leaned in close and whispered to Jacen. “Article five, subsection C-twenty-seven.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Jacen smiled at the purchasing officer. “That’s why, under article five, subsection C-twenty-seven of the Emergency Measures Act, I’m assigning you to the front-line ship that’s had the most cannon misfires in the fleet, because there’s no better place to gather facts than from the people who have to use this kit, and in the place where they have to use it.” Jacen glanced around. Even with Force-enhanced hearing, he could detect very little breathing and no swallowing. “I’m more than happy to extend this field deployment to anyone who wants to better understand the end users’ experience of procurement. Just say the word. We’re always happy to accommodate you. In fact, I can guarantee you a ringside seat for the action.”
Jacen smiled with all the diplomatic sweetness he’d learned from his mother and looked around the room, knowing he wouldn’t be mown down by volunteers. Te Gef looked stricken. Jacen felt he’d focused everyone on the significance of their job more effectively, and that they now knew what would happen if they thought adequate was good enough.
If you think it’s good enough, then it’s good enough for you to use personally—on the front line.
HM-3 followed Jacen out of the building, and they took an air taxi back to the GAG headquarters. It took a little while because the traffic was heavier than usual, and by the time Jacen got back to his office, the arrangements to transfer one civilian—Te Gaf, Biris J.—to the Ocean were already being discussed by GAG personnel. Corporal Lekauf and two of the other 967 Commando troopers greeted him like a hero in the briefing room.
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