Incoming transmission…
This is the New Republic Radio.
We broadcast a special report from the Chancellor's headquarters.
The Supreme Command of the Grand Army of the Republic reports:
The total collapse of the entire Western front shattered the original intention of the Imperial leadership to defend the capital of Stassia. As a result, the capital has been declared an open city. As of now, the march of the victorious Republic and Mandalorian troops into Strassia City takes place.
This is the message from the Chancellor's headquarters:
The free beings of the Galaxy look with pride and satisfaction on their soldier sons and daughters, who, in a unique victory streak, destroyed the enemy armies in the battle, broke through the much praised Vader Line. And now, after hard excursions and a battle fought with the boldest sacrifice, enter Strassia City victorious.
The joy of our people and the gratitude of the entire galaxy to the Chancellor and her soldiers knows no bounds in this historic hour.
—
Sweat ran down Gen Morr's face. He cursed the metal armor he wore. The cease-fire continued to hold. With a little luck, it would soon turn into something more like a real peace.
A monument of piled stone, two or three times as tall as a man, marked the Jedi victory on Corellia during the High Republic era.
Close to the monument stood what could only have been an alien sharecropper's cabin. It was empty now, windows broken, door hanging half open. If meeting at this monument symbolized something, that deserted cabin meant something else altogether. Where were the aliens who'd called it home? Anywhere on this planet? Morr doubted it.
The New Republic representative, Luke Skywalker, used a scope to enhance his vision as he looked to the sky. "Here they come!"
"Thanks," Morr said.
A moment later, his helmet picked up the approaching ships. As they got closer, he saw that the Imperials were scrupulously abiding by the terms of the cease-fire agreement. All three Lambda-class T-4a shuttles were unarmed.
He could have blown them to hell and gone. Even now, when they were giving up, the temptation was very real. Instead, he took off his helmet as the shuttles landed near him.
An Imperial officer—a general, Morr saw—got out of the lead shuttle. He walked up to Morr and Skywalker and saluted stiffly. "Good day, sirs," he said. "I recognize you from many photographs. My name is Northcote, Cyril Northcote. After the, ah, recent unfortunate events, I have the dubious privilege of being the senior General Staff officer not in captivity."
Luke returned the salute. "Pleased to meet you, General Northcote."
"Meaning no disrespect to you, sir, but I'm afraid I can't say the same," Northcote answered bleakly.
"Well, General, under the circumstances, I don't see how I can take offense at that," Luke said.
"Yes. Under the circumstances." Northcote spoke as if each word pained him. The ramp to the middle shuttle opened. An elderly man in purple robes walked down the ramp. General Northcote waved to him and he came forward, his perfectly shined shoes flashing in the bright sun.
Machine-like, Northcote said, "Commander Morr, General Skywalker, it is my duty to present to you the Emperor of the Galaxy, Sate Pestage. Your Majesty, this is Mandalorian commander Gen Morr and Jedi General Skywalker."
"Your Majesty," Luke said formally. He did not offer to shake Emperor Pestage's hand—he was under orders from New Alderaan to do no such thing.
Pestage's hand did start to rise, but fell back like a dead thing when he realized no handshake would be forthcoming. "General," Pestage said, and managed a nod.
Luke nodded back; he had no orders against that. "Your Majesty, you have come here under the terms of the cease-fire now in place to agree to the unconditional surrender of all forces still under command of the Galactic Empire. Is that correct?" He sounded like a man speaking from a script, and he was.
Emperor Pestage had to work to manage another nod. "Yes. That's right." He sounded surprised and hurt, as if wondering how fate—and his enemies—could do such a thing to him.
"All right, then. I have the terms of the surrender here." Luke took two copies of the document from his left pocket and unfolded them. "I would like to go over them with you before you sign so no one can say afterwards that there was any misunderstanding. Is that agreeable to you, sir?"
"Have I got a choice?" Sate Pestage sounded bleak, too.
"Only going on with the war," Morr answered.
"Then I haven't got a choice," Pestage sighed. "Go ahead, General. We can't fight any more, or I wouldn't be here."
Morr thought that had been true ever since Stassia fell, if not since Notinisaw did. But Sheev Palpatine kept the Empire going months longer than anybody would have imagined, before a series of nuclear bombings on Imperial worlds forced a group of generals to launch a coup against him. He had managed to escape capture or death, but was now in hiding, leaving the generals to declare a new, peace-seeking Emperor.
"All right. Here we go—Article One says you surrender unconditionally to Mandalore and the New Republic all forces on land, at sea, in the air, and in space who are at this date under Imperial control," Luke said.
Sate Pestage nodded. "That's what I'm here for." Under his breath, he added what sounded like, "Goddammit."
Morr pretended not to notice.
"Article Two says your High Command will immediately order all Imperial authorities and forces to cease operations on Thursday, May 10, at 1801 hours Coruscant Time: today at a minute past six," the Jedi General went on. "Your forces will hold in place. They will hand over weapons and equipment to local commanders. No ship or fighter is to be scuttled or damaged. Machinery, armaments, and apparatus are to be turned over undamaged. This specifically includes your Death Star ll. Is that plain enough for you?"
"I understand you," Pestage said. "We won't do any damage to them. Your bombers have already done plenty, though."
"Make sure you don't use that as an excuse for any sabotage there," Morr warned. "My government is very, very serious about that. If your people get cute, they'll be sorry."
"They're already sorry," the Galactic Emperor said. "We'll go along."
"You'd better. Now—Article Three. At that same time—6:01 today—all your camps killing non-humans are to cease operations," Luke said. "Camp authorities are to make every effort to feed their inmates. Mandalorian or N.R. supply convoys will reach them as soon as possible. Camp personnel will surrender to the first officers who arrive. Anyone who flees instead of surrendering will be liable to summary execution—we'll shoot on sight. Have you got that?"
"I've got it," Sate Pestage answered. "Some of them will likely take their chances anyway."
He was bound to be right there. Even so, Luke went on, "That brings us to Article Four. Your High Command will at once issue orders to the appropriate commanders that they obey any commands issued by the New Republic War Department and carry them out without argument or comment. All communications will be in plain language—no codes."
"Agreed." By the way he spat it out, the word seemed to taste bad in Pestage's mouth.
"Good." Again, Luke left the new and unhappy Galactic Emperor what little pride he could. "Article Five says that a final political settlement may supersede this surrender."
That got him a glare. "When you decide how you want to carve us up, you'll go ahead and do it, you mean," Pestage said.
Yes, Morr thought. Aloud, he said, "Sir, we're only soldiers. We don't have anything to do with that." Yeah, I'll pass the buck.
"Article Six now. If your High Command or any forces under your control fail to act in accordance with this surrender, our governments will take whatever punitive or other action they deem appropriate. If you disobey or fail to comply, we will deal with you in accordance with the laws and usages of war."
"You won. We lost. You'll do whatever you damn well please," Sate Pestage said.
"That's about the size of it, sir," Luke agreed. "And if there's any doubt or dispute about what these terms mean, the decision of our governments will be final." He handed Pestage both copies of the instrument of surrender. "Have you got a pen?"
"Yes." Pestage took one from an inside pocket. He read the terms to make sure they said what Luke claimed they did. Biting his lip, Pestage signed. He thrust one copy back at Luke. "Here."
"Thank you," Luke said. "Do you have hologram equipment to let you relay the news of the surrender to your commanders so they can issue the appropriate orders? You are welcome to use N.R. equipment if you don't."
"I do, thank you very much," Pestage replied. So there, Morr thought. The Galactic Emperor went back to his shuttle.
Morr and Luke made small talk with General Northcote till Pestage got out again. Then Morr asked, "All taken care of?"
Sate Pestage nodded. "Yes. You will have full cooperation from all our officials. And now, if you will excuse me, I'd like to get back to Coruscant and do what I can to keep things running."
"Um—I'm afraid not," Luke said.
"Pardon me?" Pestage raised a pale eyebrow.
"I'm afraid not," Luke repeated, more firmly this time. "You have surrendered—the Empire has surrendered—unconditionally. There is no Imperial government right now, sir. There isn't anything, not till the New Republic says there is."
"What does that make me, then?" Emperor Pestage demanded.
"My prisoner, sir," Luke answered.
He'd captured a swarm of prisoners in the course of the war. He'd never had one cuss him out with the virtuoso splendor Sate Pestage showed. Luke let Pestage have his say. Why not? In the end, it made no difference. The New Republic had the firepower, and the Galactic Empire didn't.
"At a minute past six tonight, your Majesty, it's all over," Luke said when Pestage finally ran down. "They'll remember you as the man who made peace."
"They'll remember me as the man who threw in the sponge," Pestage said. "Or else they won't remember me at all."
Considering how little he'd done until now, Morr reflected, he might well be right.