A ribbon of crimson stardust, the material from which a nebula might one day be born, drifted in the distance. Countless chunks of space rock rolled in front of it, tumbling black silhouettes against the red. The asteroid cluster had no name, and the stardust only some alpha-numeric garble given to it by anonymous stellar cartographers long ago. It was a desolate place on the galaxy's outer edge, a place where no where one had cause to go. It was, therefore, a perfect place to hide.
The star destroyer Invidious hung in open space, its nose pointing forward to give a good head-on view of the asteroids and the stardust. Its mile-long wedge, once the pale gray of all Imperial star destroyers, had been accentuated by broad swirls of black paint over the years. Its hulls bristled with other modifications as well: docking ports, weapon emplacements, tractor beam emitters, everything a rogue pirate vessel and mobile shadowport could want.
Still, Invidious had seen better days. As she stood in front of the broad forward-facing viewport of her personal cabin, Leonia Tavira couldn't help but feel uncharacteristically pensive. The war between the New Republic and the Galactic Empire, of which she had nominally been a part twenty years ago, had been over for four years. It was a time of law and order, peace and prosperity, for almost all of the civilized galaxy.
It was, all things considered, a horrible time to be an outlaw.
Behind her a voice said, "I believe your broadcast is starting."
It was enough to make her feel a little better. Tavira turned to look over her cabin. What had once been Invidious's conference room had been remodeled to contain several long sofas and plush seats, walls decorated with tapestries and looted artwork, and a cabinet stocked with the best liquors a woman could steal.
Seated on the longest sofa, facing the holo-projected image of a three-eyed Gran newscaster babbling away with the audio muted, was a human on the young side of middle age. He was well-dressed in a handsome suit, with dark hair slicked away from a smooth, attractive face. Pedric Cuf smiled politely at her and said, "Would you like to sit down?"
"Very much," Tavira said. "I've been looking forward to this. Just let me fetch a drink."
Tavira walked over to the liquor cabinet, half-filled two tumblers with Tralian whiskey, and carried them over to the sofa. She bent low when she handed it to Pedric Cuf, who responded with a simple grateful nod. Then she sat down on the sofa right next to him, hip lightly pressed against his. He just reached for the remote and turned the audio on the holo-broadcast.
A small woman with raven-black hair and a shapely athletic figure, Tavira had always looked young for her age. Even now most beings told her she looked barely past thirty, and she was confident it wasn't flattery. She'd been good at drawing men's attention since she was just fifteen years old and seduced her homeworld's aged Imperial moff. She was still good at it. The fact that Pedric didn't seem to notice was disappointing.
She would have to settle with his being a good business partner. At least, she hoped he'd be a good one; they were going to find out shortly.
On the holo, the Gran newscaster was saying, "I've just gotten word that we're ready to begin the debate. If you'll watch, you'll see all four candidates for Chief of State of the New Republic take their podiums now."
Tavira leaned forward as the Gran stepped aside and the holo-cam zoomed in on the platform where all four candidates were taking their places.
"It seems so strange not seeing Organa Solo on that stage," she said.
"She'd become an institution," Pedric said. "Perhaps she felt she was simply… done with leadership."
He said it as though the concept of relinquishing power voluntarily didn't make sense to him. Truth be told, it didn't make sense to Tavira either. Not that she'd ever wanted to be run the entire galaxy like Princess Leia had, not in the least, but what she did have, what life she'd claimed for herself here on Invidious, was something she didn't want to surrender, ever.
Meanwhile, her potential successors were taking their places, and the Gran newscaster was helpfully reading off his canned summary for the handful of beings in the galaxy who hadn't been paying close attention to this unprecedented election to determine the Republic's next chief of state.
"And taking the stage on the far right," he said, "You can see Senator Borsk Fey'lya of Kothlis, currently serving as minster of the Justice Council on Chief of State Organa Solo's cabinet. Senator Fey'lya is one of the most senior members of the New Republic senate, having served on the Provisional Council of the Rebel Alliance."
The Bothan's fur looked combed and soft and shiny as he stood there under the lights, gripping the sides of the podium with his paws, head titled back at just the right angle to make him look confident and assured. He had good reason to be; he'd avoided potential political disgrace during the Caamas Document crisis four years ago and was now considered one of the two front-runners in the election.
"And next, we have Senator Celch Dravvad of Corellia taking the stage."
The human, middle-aged and photogenic, smiled a white smile and waved to the clapping audience. Dravvad, a relatively new senator, had made a name for himself as a critic of the peace treaty with the Empire, saying it was too lenient, though he'd always been vague on what to do about it.
"And now, you can see Senator Pwoe of Mon Calamari."
Pwoe was another new senator, the first Quarren to represent a planet most associated with Admiral Ackbar. He was a critic of both the peace treaty and the so-called soft, establishment politicians who had orchestrated it.
"And, finally, we have Senator Behn-Kihl-Nahm of Bavinyar, chairman of the Defense Council."
The tall, gray-bearded Cerean walked up to his podium and gave the audience a grateful bow, tipping his cone-topped head forward. Organa Solo, as she wrapped up her last term as Chief of State, was strictly avoiding any comment on the election to replace her, but everyone who knew anything about New Republic politics knew that Behn-Kihl-Nahm was her trusted friend and clearly her preferred successor.
Tavira glanced sidelong at Pedric. "How does it feel, having your homeworld represented on such a prestigious level?"
Pedric's face settled into a frown. "You have no idea."
Tavira smirked. "I wonder if he has any idea of the surprise in store for him."
"He'd better not. Then it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?"
"I thought you'd want to be on Bavinyar yourself, so you can watch over it personally."
"I'm just a middle-man in my organization. I trust our people on the ground." He glanced sideways at her and smiled. "Now that you've provided them with proper equipment, of course."
"Of course," Tavira smiled, tapped her tumbler lightly against Pedric's and sat back. The plush sofa cushions seemed to wrap around her. She took another sip and smiled.
It was going to be quite a show.
-{}-
"Myri, will you be quiet, please?" Iella said with a sigh as she stuck her head inside her younger daughter's bedroom.
Myri looked up, eyes wide and alert but with an expression as blissfully, annoyingly innocent as only a six-year-old could manage. That exact expression was replicated on the five other schoolkids crammed into her room.
Iella put on her best Authoritative Mom voice and said, "All of you need to keep it down to an indoor level, okay? Myri, I don't mind if you have friends over, but your father and I are watching a holo-broadcast and we'd really like to hear what's actually being said, okay?"
Myri blinked and said, so innocently, "Okay, mom."
"Okay, Mrs. Antilles," added the girl next to her.
"We're sorry, Mrs. Antilles," piped another of Myri's friends.
"Just… use indoor voices, all right?" Iella asked. The kids nodded, one after another, without changing their owlish expressions. Figuring she'd done all she could, Iella left Myri's bedroom, closing the door behind her.
"Mrs. Antilles," she muttered as she walked down the short hallway to the living room. She'd been married for almost a decade now and she still wasn't used to that.
"How'd it go in there?" her husband asked from his place on the sofa.
"I think I temporarily calmed them. We'll see how long it lasts."
It was mid-afternoon in Galactic City, where the debate was being held, but here in Corellia's capital of Coronet, the sun had just gone down, and the brilliant skyline was lighting up outside the windows of their apartment. Wedge had retired with a general's rank and a general's pension, which meant they could afford a place with a good view at any hour.
Iella was pleased and unsurprised to see Myri's sister Syal seated cross-legged in the chair next to the sofa. Syal was just one year older than Myri but acted a lot more mature than seven standard years. She watched the holo of the debate intently, dark eyebrows drawn together.
Iella dipped into the kitchen to fetch herself a little drink. She heard Borsk Fey'lya's mellifluous, smooth voice say, "I'm sorry, but I must disagree with Senator Dravvad. The peace treaty with the Empire, while imperfect, brought an end to over twenty years of hostilities and we've seen no indication the Empire has any intention of violating the rules of the agreement."
"Senator Pwoe," said the moderator, "Do you have a comment?"
"It's obvious why Senator Fey'lya is such a staunch defender of the Pellaeon-Gavrisom Treaty, given that it neatly saved the Bothans from their own mess."
"I object to that statement!" Fey'lya snapped, no longer silky-smooth. "The actions of a handful of saboteurs on Caamas fifty years ago in no way reflects on the current Combined Clans."
Iella sighed and took a sip of her husband's Tralian whiskey. She'd probably need more of it before the night was through.
"We understand your position, Senator Fey'lya," the moderator was saying patiently as Iella carried two glasses into the living room. "Senator Behn-Kihl-Nahm, do you have a comment?"
"In this instance, I'd agree with Senator Fey'lya," the Cerean said calmly. "The Pellaeon-Gavrisom Treaty has been a success so far. No more sons and daughters of the Republic have died, and the Empire had stayed within its territory. Besides, I wouldn't want it to be said that we in the Republic break an oath the Empire keeps."
He smiled in good humor, and that got a few claps from the audience.
Iella sighed as she settled down next to Wedge. She held out her second glass. "Have your favorite, dear."
"Gladly," Wedge said. He took it, sipped, and glanced sidelong at Syal, who was still watching the holo intently.
"It's always a show, isn't it?" she said.
"Very," he nodded. "It's not like Pwoe or Dravvad would really renege on the treaty if they got in power, but they found a base they can play to."
"Then why are they saying they would?" asked Syal, serious and naive at once.
"Because some people, for different reasons, aren't happy we made peace with the Empire," Wedge told his daughter. "Pwoe and Dravvad want to play to their hopes."
"But why?"
"Because some people think we should have gotten more territory from them, or some kind of reparations, or maybe dismantled the Empire entirely. But that would have taken another war. Pwoe and Dravvad both know that, but they make a fuss anyway to get votes from people who don't."
Syal frowned and looked back at the holo, where the moderator was giving Celch Dravvad a question about the Defense Forces. The girl muttered, "I'm glad we're not at war anymore."
Iella smiled lightly. Syal had been just three years old when the treaty was sighed and didn't remember a bit of it. She had no idea what her parents had gone through before the war's end allowed them to retire and focus on family.
"Doesn't the Chief of State get elected by the senators?" Syal asked next.
"That's right," Wedge said.
"Then why show this debate? Those people in the audience, they're not senators, are they?"
"No, but senators answer to the will of the people they represent. The Republic has billions of beings, Syal, and making sure every single one votes is pretty much impossible. That's why the senators all vote, so they can represent their people."
That was the way it was supposed to work, anyway, but as every adult knew, there was plenty of backroom dealing in the Senate. Borsk Fey'lya was a master at that sort of thing, but Behn-Kihl-Nahm was another veteran senator, and no slouch at it either, even if he wasn't as nakedly ruthless as the Bothan.
Next Syal asked, "If Dravvad is running, and he's from Corellia, does that mean we don't get a vote?"
Wedge glanced at his wife, silently asking if she'd be willing to field civics questions for a while. Iella said, "Every planet in the Republic has a senior and junior senator. Dravvad's junior senator will vote for Corellia."
"So he'll vote for Dravvad?"
"That's… probably what will happen. But he doesn't have to."
"But he has to vote for whoever's popular on Corellia, right? And people do like Dravvad."
"You're right, a lot of people do," Iella allowed. "That's why he'll probably get Corellia's vote."
She was still uncertain herself; the senator was relatively young and had risen to prominence as a voice of pragmatism and interspecies cooperation in the wake of the Centerpoint Crisis six years earlier. The thing about Dravvad was, he was so pragmatic it was hard to tell what he really believed. Sometimes she thought he was running on an anti-Imperial line to raise his political clout rather than win; other times she wondered whether he was hoping to get pushed ahead by virtue of being the sole human in the election. That was a nasty thing to think about, but it was something a smart politician would be aware of, especially from a system with the fraught racial politics like Corellia.
On the broadcast, Dravvad was saying, "I believe it's important to keep the New Republic defense fleet strong to fend off incursions from the Empire, the Unknown Regions, or any other enemies we have. At the same time, I think it's also important to realize that different star systems have different priorities and that some amount of autonomy should be granted to local defense fleets."
"This is tricky" Wedge told Syal. "He wants to look tough on defense, big on the military. He's also Corellian, and Corellians don't like being told what to do."
"He's trying to say two things at once," Syal looked confused.
"I think it's called having your rhyscate and eating it too."
"But that's impossible."
"Honey," Wedge smirked, "I think our outgoing Chief of State once told me that politics is the art of making the impossible possible."
-{}-
Leia Organa Solo leaned forward intently in her seat and tried to ignore her husband as Han said, "What? That's not a dodge, he's right! You've gotta learn to look at this from the perspective of the little guys."
"Corellia's a highly populated, industrialized system," Leia's chief of staff, Nanaod Engh, told him, "They're hardly 'little.'"
"I know. And I know you can't just mothball the fleet 'cause the Empire's gone, but you can't just go around telling every star system what to do either."
"Han, please, I'm trying to listen," she said, and tried to keep the edge from her voice.
To his credit, Han didn't protest any more. He leaned back on the sofa next to her, arms crossed over his chest, and said nothing. The gathering in Leia's office was small: Han, Leia, and Engh, plus a handful of senators from her circle of allies, including Cal Omas, Alderaan's junior senator, and Elegos A'Kla of Caamas.
"Senator Behn-Kihl-Nahm," said the moderator, "As Chairman of the Defense Council, I'm sure you have an opinion on this issue."
"Of course," Bennie bowed his head, polite as ever. "Though I am not as worried about the Empire as Senators Pwoe or Dravvad, I do believe it is important to keep vigilant."
"So you support a centralized military?"
"I support a design where planetary systems can build their own defense fleets, within limits, so long as those local forces are subordinate to Fleet Command. At the same time there is no cause to totally dismantle the five battle groups of our centralized defence force, though some reorganization for peacetime would be prudent. As you know, I am from Bavinyar. Our planetary militia is modest, but large relative to our total population. Furthermore, it's an institution Bavinyari citizens take pride in. I have no desire to disrupt it."
"See?" Han whispered to Leia. "Even your own guy agrees with me."
Leia fought a frown. Han hadn't said anything wrong; Bennie was her longtime friend and trusted ally. She would certainly rather see him as her successor as anyone else on that stage, and pretty much everyone in politics knew it. Still, she hated being seen as biased, and tried to never let it influence her actions as Chief of State even as she wound down her final term.
"So you would like to essentially continue the defense policies of your predecessors?" asked the moderator, clearly following the same line of thought.
"I believe some overhauls are necessary, as I said," Bennie smiled easily. "We are no longer at war. We no longer need to pull millions of sons and daughters from their parents to fight in far-off systems. I have great respect for how Organa Solo and Gavrisom managed the military, just like I respect Admiral Ackbar and the other senior commanders. I will be happy to work with Ackbar and their people to streamline our military, to make it smaller, more efficient, and more federalized without debilitated our capacity to respond to threats."
It was a polite, veiled jab at Fey'lya, who made no secret of his desire to replace Ackbar, but the moderator didn't veer the debate in that direction. Instead he said, "You've all talked a good deal about the Republic's ability to respond to external threats. However, nothing's been said about conflict inside the New Republic. I'd like you all to take a minute to address how you'd handle a case of violent or potentially violent instability on a specific Republic member world."
Trieebak gave a low roar behind her, and Cal Omas added, "You're right. This one could get tricky."
That it could, but Leia knew that if anyone could handle it, Bennie could. She leaned in a little closer.
-{}-
General Etahn A'baht sat alone in his office deep within the New Republic Defence Force headquarters complex on Coruscant. His arms were crossed over his chest and his rough, violet-skinned Dornean face was stoic as he watched the debate. He'd been expecting this question for a while and was surprised it had taken this long to come up.
"This will always be a difficult question to answer," Senator Pwoe was saying. The tentacles on his face were curling in what looked like distaste, but A'baht couldn't read Quarren facial expressions well enough to know what it actually meant. "However, I think it is generally important that we allow differences between populations within a New Republic member planet to be sorted out democratically and peacefully within the local power structure."
It was the sort of thing A'baht expected him to say; Mon Calmari was, after all, split between two native sentient species. Celch Dravvad, who represented a system with three sentient species, said, "I agree with Senator Pwoe. The New Republic is not the Empire. It allows autonomy to its member systems and trusts them to act responsibly."
"That is all well and good when the members do act responsibly," the moderator said, "But what do you recommend if the local power system breaks down and things become violent?"
For a short moment, none of the four candidates spoke. A'baht allowed himself a brittle smile; it was the first time all night they'd all gone speechless at once.
Finally, Fey'lya said, "Of course every situation must be handled independently, but I do believe that, in some cases, the Republic must be willing to use force to ensure its own laws are being followed. That includes use of military action."
The moderator said, "Correct me if I'm wrong, Senator, but weren't you just advocated for a decentralized military a few minutes ago?"
"I did, and I stand by that decision. However, we will always have a New Republic navy and that navy will always be ready when needed. If there is a small local disturbance, surely the standing navy can handle it." Fey'lya quickly added, "But once again, use of lethal force must be very carefully considered. It is always imperative to work with the government and local citizens to resolve conflicts peacefully."
It was what A'baht expected Fey'lya to say. Bothan politics had plenty of conflict, but it was always done with mostly-metaphorical knives in the back rather than blasters and bombs. An actual civil war in Bothan space was unthinkable.
"Senator Behn-Kihl-Nahm," the moderator said, "What is your opinion on this matter?"
The Cerean licked his lips before speaking; a rare sign of nervousness. A'baht had had plenty of professional experience with the Defense Council Chairman, especially during the Black Fleet Crisis eight years back, and while he trusted the Cerean's judgment, he knew that this was an especially tricky case.
"As many of you know," the chairman began, "My homeworld is a demographically divided one. On Cerea, there was a schism between those who embraced technology and the larger galaxy, and those who did not. In the early years of the Empire, those who did were relocated to Bavinyar. The Empire was not being generous, of course. It had just driven Bavinyar's human settlers off that world and wanted to make sure none of them came back.
"Well, they have come back. Bavinyar is now a world split in half between Cereans and humans who've returned to the world the Empire stole from them. And it has not always been easy. But we have peace. We have a unity government with a Cerean prime minister Pohl-Had-Narr and a human vice minister. I believe we can solve our problems peacefully because I have seen it happen."
It was all fair enough, A'baht knew, but he was still sidestepping the question. Bavinyar had extremists on both sides who wanted the planet for only Cereans or only humans. Pohl-Had-Narr had agreed to take on a human vice minister because of the pressure from armed human factions.
A'baht knew all this because Bavinyari exiles had come to Dornea during the early years of the Empire. The feisty human settlers had bravely fought alongside Dornea's soldiers in their shared fight against Imperial encroachment.
Of all the Bavinyari, he'd known Jadesei Syne the best. She'd served under his command for over a decade and had even captained a shipful of Dorneans. And now, she was the vice minister of Bavinyar.
"A unity government is encouraging, Senator," the moderator was saying, "But again, what happens if that unity fails?"
Ben-kihl-nahn swallowed and said, "Then we send in our diplomats, or peacemakers, and if necessary peace-keepers. But military action should only be the most final resort."
The moderator nodded, as if he knew he wouldn't get any more out of the candidates. He glanced down at his datapad for the next question, and A'baht could see all four of them behind the podiums breathing out restrained sighs of relief.
"Our next question," the moderator said, "Is about the rebuilt Jedi Order led by Luke Skywalker. I'd like to hear your plans for how the relationship between the New Republic and the Jedi should operate going forward. Senator Fey'lya, please begin."
"Thank you," the Bothan said, leaning into his microphone. "I believe my opinion on this matter is well-known. I believe the Jedi are an important asset to the well-being of the Republic. Master Skywalker's integrity is beyond reproach.
"However, it must not be forgotten that the Jedi are subject to rule of law just like everyone else. Despite Master Skywalker's good intentions, he cannot control all of his apprentices at every time. Lest anyone forget, dozens of New Republic senators were brutally murdered when one of Master Skywalker's failed students bombed the senate hall.
"Therefore," Fey'lya continued, "I would implement a separate division of the Justice Department to oversee and regulate all actions undertaken by the Jedi."
"I concur with Senator Fey'lya," said Pwoe. "The Jedi are powerful beings, too powerful in many ways. They are of course useful for all kinds of things, but they serve the Republic. We must not let them forget that."
If Pwoe and Fey'lya agreed on something, thought A'baht, the Jedi really were in trouble.
"Thank you," the moderator was saying, "Senator Dravvad?"
A'baht watched the Corellian closely. He was a bit of an unknown factor; it was hard to tell which way he'd sway.
"Well," Dravvad said, "I believe it is important to work closely with Master Skywalker in this. I know he's put forth a proposal to re-establish a Jedi Council. I believe that facilitating this and making sure it operates under the aegis of our civilian government, would go a long way to preventing any problems with the Jedi."
"Thank you, Senator," said the moderator. "Now I'd like to turn to Chairman Behn-Kihl-Nahm, who looks like he's eager to put in his word."
"I most certaintly am." Behn-Kihl-Nahm gripped the sides of his podium tight. "I must say, I'm shocked at the aspersions being cast on the Jedi Order this evening. Timme and again, Master Skywalker and his colleagues have saved the New Republic from dire threats. That they should be treated as threats themselves is unconscionable.
"That being said, I certainly support the creation of a Jedi Council, if Master Skywalker wishes it, and if he sees some alternative to governing his Jedi Order I will be happy to consider that also. This man…"
Behn-Kihl-Nahm had trailed off. Someone was bent low next to the moderator, whispering something into his ear. When that messenger darted out of view, the moderator squared his shoulders and said, "I'm sorry for the delay. I'm afraid we're going to have to cut this debate short."
"For what reason?" asked Fey'lya from his podium.
The moderator shifted to look at Behn-Kihl-Nahm. "I'm sorry to inform you, Senator, that the prime minister of Bavinyar, Pohl-Had-Narr, has just been assassinated."
-{}-
For a priceless moment, the Cerean senator stood there, like his blue holo-image had just frozen. Then he nodded his head and said, "Thank you. I assure you the Republic will be very active on Bavinyar from now on. We will resolve this crisis, I promise you."
The moderator raised a hand, and the holo-image winked out. A second later that Gran commentator appeared. Pedric Cuf picked up the remote and shut the holo off. Then he turned to Leonia Tavira, raised his glass with the other hand, and said, "That was exceptional theater."
"Agreed." Tavira clinked her glass. "Almost too good. It will look suspicious."
"Of course it will," Pedric said. "It's supposed to. My people wanted to send a message, and they've sent it the best way possible."
"Yes, this election will take a very interesting turn now." Tavira took a sip and said, "Vice Minister Syne will take over the government now, correct?"
"Those are the rules of succession."
"But from all I've heard, Syne is a moderate. She's not a part of your Bavinyar Independence League. Is she?"
Pedric grinned. "You can't expect me to tell you everything. You're only our gunrunner."
"Very well." She pouted. "I'm eager to see your next move then, Mr. Cuf. I always enjoy seeing the rebel government find new ways to embarrass itself."
"I know. It's why I came to you in the first place."
Tavira settled in the sofa next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder. She took another sip from her glass and asked, "Tell me, Pedric, what do you really want from all this?"
She wasn't looking at him, but she could feel him jerk a little in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"You could have assassinated Pohl-Had-Narr, at any time, but you chose to do it now. I assume you want to embarrass Behn-Kihl-Nahm, knock him out of the election, at the very least."
"Our goal is to cause chaos inside the Republic so we can more easily secede. That the Cerean senator is running for chief of state is… a happy coincidence."
She glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "I have not become what I am be trusting coincidence."
To that, Pedric Cuf responded with a white-toothed smile. "The whole truth will come together in time, Leonia. I promise you that. You need only wait, and trust me."
"I've not become what I am by trusting, period."
"Then just wait." That smile didn't falter. "I think you'll see this is the start of a very fruitful relationship."