Remnant: Force Heretic I

by Sean Williams

  “I called you here to ask for your help.” He turned now to face everyone in the room. “Because I have to tell you, I am altogether sick of fighting.”

  “The Yuuzhan Vong?” Mara Jade Skywalker asked. She was sitting at the long, oval transparisteel table, her husband standing beside her.

  Omas shrugged noncommittally. “Borsk Fey’lya was bad enough. Fighting him every step of the way used to make me want to weep. The losses we incurred because of his stupidity …” He shook his head, wanting to lose the memory. “He’s gone now, and I had the momentary foolishness to think that it would somehow make things easier. But I was wrong. His death has sent the Bothans on this crazy ar’krai war of theirs, and I have one of my senior admirals arguing for an all-out push to wipe out the Yuuzhan Vong once and for all. I take it to the Senate, and all I hear is more of the same from them. Even the Jedi—”

  “Not all of us.” Luke Skywalker’s frown was deep, as though he’d been personally stung.

  Omas respectfully inclined his head to the Jedi Master, and to A’Kla, who had stiffened in her seat. “Forgive me,” he said. “No, not all of the Jedi, and not all of the Senate, either. But there’s too much craziness out there for any real decisions to be made.”

  “Should I take it, then,” Leia said, “that you don’t approve of the final push?”

  “You’re asking a politician to buck the public’s will?” Omas laughed lightly, humorlessly, as he returned to his seat. He sank into it with a sigh. “The truth is, I wouldn’t commit our forces to attack at the moment, whether I wanted to or not. We’ve made some small progress against the Yuuzhan Vong, yes, and we seem to be holding our own at the moment, but if we overextend we’ll just be putting ourselves in their position. Until we have enough in reserve to defend ourselves, should such a push go wrong, I’m not prepared to authorize anything dramatic. Otherwise, we run the risk of losing what small advantages we’ve gained, and maybe even ending up worse off. We need to consolidate first, then fight back.”

  “I wondered why Traest wasn’t here for this,” Hamner said. “He’s not going to approve of this decision, is he?”

  “He’ll have to live with it. Kre’fey is a good strategist, and he stuck by us when we needed him, but he’s not my Supreme Commander. I trust Sien on this.”

  Sien Sovv nodded, his big, black eyes blinking. “Consolidation is the key. I’m not going to stick my neck out until I’m sure my vibro-ax is bigger than the Vong’s.”

  “Discretion is the better part of valor,” Mara said.

  “Perhaps. If I had the forces at my disposal right now, maybe I would feel differently.” Sovv shrugged.

  Skywalker nodded. “A push would be harder to argue against, in that case. I understand. It becomes a moral argument, then. If we do attack with intent to destroy, does that make us any better than the Yuuzhan Vong themselves?”

  There was silence around the table. Omas studied each of them in turn. Skywalker looked worried, and his wife was watching him closely. His sister, Leia, had the tight-faced reserve he had learned meant that she was thinking carefully about everything going on around her. Kenth Hamner and Sien Sovv were military through and through, used to arguing in terms of resources and objectives, but on less firm footing when it came to philosophy. Senator A’Kla was the only one displaying any clear emotion. The Camaasi’s golden fur was practically bristling with agitation.

  “Yes, Releqy?” Omas knew what she was going to say before she had even opened her mouth. That was why he had invited her to the meeting in the first place.

  “I hope to speak for all of us,” she said, “when I say that our ultimate objective is peace. Not just an end to the war.”

  Again, a murmur of agreement swept around the table. Only Princess Leia voiced dissent.

  “Peace at any cost,” she said, “isn’t peace.”

  Mara was quick to back her up. “At best it would only be a temporary cease-fire.”

  “We need something more permanent to base this new Galactic Alliance on apart from the defeat of an enemy,” the Princess went on. “As well as a solid infrastructure and guaranteed supplies, ships to replace those destroyed and open hyperspace lanes, we need security and order, and—”

  “What we need,” Sien Sovv cut in, “is Coruscant back. It’s a symbol of our authority, and without it everything we attempt is undermined.”

  “All valid points,” Omas said, acknowledging his Supreme Commander with a curt nod. “But I fear we’re reaching for stars when we’ve barely managed to get out of the gutter. Keeping things together on a daily basis, let alone rebuilding what we’ve lost or fighting back, is my most pressing concern at the moment. The subspace networks and HoloNet itself are a mess. Do you have any idea how hard it will be to put things back together when we don’t even know which bit is doing what anymore? Half the pieces can no longer even talk to each other.”

  “It’s not as though people haven’t been trying,” Leia began.

  “I know, I know,” he said. “You and Han have put in a lot of effort, and so has Mara. Marrab, too, is doing his best—”

  “Gron Marrab?” Mara interrupted. “Surely there must be someone better for the job than that.”

  “Well, he’s a Mon Cal, so he’s local,” Omas said, unable to help feeling defensive. “And besides, it’s not as if I have much choice. That’s my point, really. I don’t have any choices. The intelligence community was routed when Coruscant fell, just like the Senate. All we have in its place is a lot of fine effort, but nothing coordinated. There are at least six chains of command out there, all feeding through to different people by different means. They don’t talk to each other; I’d be surprised if there aren’t still more that won’t talk to me.

  “And that’s when they can talk,” he went on. “There are parts of this galaxy as big as the Core that we haven’t heard from for months. We don’t know if this silence is self-imposed or due to infrastructure collapse. We don’t know if it’s a technical problem or deliberate sabotage. All we do know is that the communications we once took for granted have fallen into disrepair along with everything else.”

  “And in the absence of communications,” Luke put in, “ferment breeds.”

  “Precisely,” Omas said. “It’s pointless to win a war only to watch the Galactic Alliance fall apart around us afterward.”

  “Then what is it you want, exactly?” Mara asked. “I presume it has something to do with us, otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”

  “I need a group of people committed to bringing things back together,” Omas said passionately. “A mobile task force traveling from place to place—reconnecting the dots, if you like. Familiar, trustworthy faces, symbols of peace and prosperity. That kind of thing. I thought of Master Skywalker first, of course. And Leia, too. A New Republic presence will certainly help things along.”

  “That’s ‘Galactic Alliance’ now, Cal,” Leia said.

  “Yes, of course. That’s going to take some getting used to.” He continued: “The task force doesn’t need specialist technical expertise to repair the networks where they’re down; you can call for that sort of help if needed, when the problem has been isolated. Just in case it’s a military problem, I’ll provide a squadron or two for protection—but you shouldn’t need anything more than that. You’re not there to intimidate, but to communicate. Open up the black spots, whatever it takes, and bring them back into the fold. At least let them know we’re paying attention, anyway.”

  He paused to allow others to comment. When no one did, he said, “Well, what do you think?”

  Leia was the first to respond, nodding slowly and thoughtfully. “In principle, I think it’s a good idea,” she said. “And I’m sure Han will agree, too.”

  Omas offered a faint smile in appreciation. “I was hoping this would be the case,” he said. “The Falcon would make a great support vessel.”

  “And you don’t really have many to spare,” Leia said. “I understand.”

 
Omas glanced at Luke and was surprised to see the Jedi Master frowning. That threw the Chief of State for a moment. What wasn’t there to like about his plan? It gave the Jedi a chance to reestablish their peacekeeping role in the galaxy while at the same time tying them ever closer to the Galactic Alliance. If the mission was a success—and there was no reason Omas could see why it wouldn’t be—then no one in the Senate would be able to argue about the worth of the Jedi again.

  “Luke?” Mara prompted, also catching her husband’s frown.

  The Jedi Master remained silent for a while longer, as though mulling over everything Omas had just said. When he did speak, it was slowly, choosing each word with care.

  “This would solve only half the problem,” he said. “No matter how well we did our job, it would still leave the Yuuzhan Vong. That’s a problem that isn’t going to go away, no matter how much you stifle the agitators. But what if I told you I could solve your military problem and the moral problem in one operation?”

  “I’d be interested, naturally,” Omas said, then lifted his thin shoulders and spread his arms in a supplicating gesture. “But how?”

  “The Imperial Remnant,” Sovv said, answering for the Jedi Master.

  Luke looked at the Supreme Commander, nodding. “The Empire.”

  “They turned us down,” Leia said. “Pellaeon said that he had no interest in joining forces. As far as they’re concerned, they’ve been holding their own perfectly well against the Yuuzhan Vong.”

  “And at that point, we weren’t,” Luke said. “But now that we’re starting to hit back, they might change their mind.”

  “Well, it would certainly solve the military problem,” Omas said. “It would also legitimize the name of our new government.”

  “The Galactic Federation of Free Alliances,” A’Kla said.

  “Exactly. There’s not much meaning to it if entire chunks of the galaxy won’t join.”

  Omas folded his hands before him, returning his attention to Luke. “You’re proposing a diplomatic mission, Master Skywalker?”

  “To the Imperial Remnant—and to the Chiss, too,” he replied. “They’re the ones who refined the toxin developed by Scaur’s scientists—the Alpha Red bioweapons. That project is still hanging over us. We mustn’t forget that.”

  “No. Admiral Kre’fey isn’t letting me.”

  “I thought the project was on hold,” A’Kla said, the purple fur above her eyes ruffling slightly beneath a frown.

  “ ‘On hold’ in military terms simply means that you’re set on stun,” the Supreme Commander said. “The blaster, however, is still powered and aimed.”

  “Or it would be, given just a few weeks’ development time.” Omas himself was deeply conflicted over the Chiss plan to use biological warfare to defeat the Yuuzhan Vong. On the one hand, he could see the military sense in wiping out the enemy with one strike—a strike that would cost nothing in terms of troops or fleet resources. But it smacked of using the enemy’s own tactics against them. The Yuuzhan Vong had employed biological warfare on Ithor—whose native bafforr trees, ironicallly, were the very source of the Alpha Red toxin—and many other worlds, destroying whole biospheres in the process. It was a dirty, demeaning tactic, and it could so easily be used against the wielder. In his nightmares he saw system after system falling to a gray plague while, at the same time, the Yuuzhan Vong were wiped out by the Chiss bioweapon. The end result would be a lifeless, sterile galaxy.

  He didn’t want that to be what his administration was remembered for—even if there was no one left to remember it.

  “Destroying the research,” Sovv said, “would meet with the strongest resistance from some under my command. I cannot guarantee that they wouldn’t take independent action to stop you.”

  Luke nodded. “I’m aware of that, Commander. That’s why I wouldn’t be going to the Chiss to propose or attempt such a move. That’s their decision, and I’ll leave it up to them. I would only be extending the hand of peace.”

  “People will automatically assume a hidden agenda.” Sovv turned to Omas. “If you’re going to allow this, Cal, I’d advise that it be an informal mission. Unofficially sanctioned, top secret, hidden agenda—whatever you want to call it. The fewer people who know about it, the better.”

  “If it’s not official,” Omas said, “I’m not sure how much support I could lend it.”

  “That’s okay,” Luke said. “We’ll have Jade Shadow and my X-wing, and we might even be able to call in a few favors on top of that. The only support I really want is an assurance that you won’t try to stop us, and that you’ll hold the warmongers back while we’re gone.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” Omas said. “There’s plenty to keep people busy.” He leaned back into his chair, sensing more to Luke’s request than appeared on the surface. “However, I doubt that the Yuuzhan Vong will make it as easy for us as Senator Niuv would have us believe.”

  “It’s a long way to travel, isn’t it?” Sovv asked. “I mean, I appreciate you going to such lengths to bring the Empire into the fold, but I’d have thought you’d be more needed here. Isn’t there someone else you can send? Kenth, here, for instance, would be perfectly competent. The Empire and the Chiss would respect his background.”

  “You make a good point, Sien.” Luke briefly exchanged a look with Mara and Leia that Omas couldn’t interpret. “But those very same abilities you mention make him perfect for the job of keeping things calm here. Neither the Empire nor the Chiss will resolve the Yuuzhan Vong problem alone, even in a military sense. To be honest, they are only secondary objectives. There’s something else I need to do while I’m gone.”

  “Ah.” Omas pushed himself forward as the missing piece slowly became clear. “The Empire and the Chiss—both lie in or near the Unknown Regions.”

  A faint smile appeared at the edges of Luke’s mouth. “That’s true.”

  “What is it you’re looking for, Master Skywalker?”

  “If I told you, Cal, you wouldn’t believe me.”

  “The moral solution to the war?”

  “Perhaps. An alternative, anyway.”

  Luke raised a hand as Omas began to ask another question.

  The Chief of State rested back into his chair again with a wry smile. “I guess I can’t force you to tell me,” he said. He glanced at Sovv. It was obvious that his Supreme Commander knew as little about Skywalker’s plans as he did. “You’ve offered enough for me to give you my private assurance that I won’t do anything to hinder your plans. Having the Empire and the Chiss aboard won’t guarantee the security of the Galactic Alliance, but it’ll help. If you think you can give me a long-term resolution to the war as well, then I shall do what I can to assist.”

  The Jedi Master kept his expression carefully composed, but the way his wife touched his arm suggested that she was happy with the outcome of the meeting. Like her husband, though, her face revealed nothing.

  “What about you, Leia?” Omas asked. “Will you still do what I’ve asked of you?”

  She nodded. “Of course,” she said. “You can count on both Han and me to do whatever we can to help.”

  The Chief of State nodded in return. “I’m grateful,” he said. “Make a time with Sien to discuss the logistics. We’ll see what special operations can lend you. I know you have some connections down there.” He stood with a smile, knowing perfectly well that Jaina Solo’s Twin Suns Squadron was a sure bet for the mission—and if she was involved, Jag Fel wouldn’t be far away. Together they would keep the military side of the mission covered, and possibly more than that: he was sure Sien Sovv wouldn’t mind applying a little force to some of the more unruly sectors of the galaxy.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a line of beings wanting to see me.”

  “We thank you for your time,” Luke said, taking his wife’s hand as she rose from the chair. “As well as your cooperation. May the Force guide us all.”

  “To peace,” Releqy A’Kla said, standing w
ith the others.

  “To peace,” Omas echoed wholeheartedly as they filed out of the room. He knew that only time would blunt the teeth of the Corellian sand panthers in the ranks of the Senate, the Defense Force, and the Jedi. Whatever Luke Skywalker had up his sleeve, Omas only hoped he could give him enough time to bring it into effect before those sand panthers gathered outside his office door, hungry for his blood.

  From space, the ocean world Mon Calamari shone a brilliant, peaceful blue. Under a sky that glinted like ice, curving cloud patterns traced words only stars could understand. All but the keenest of eyes would fail to see the coral outcrops, marshy islands, and floating cities that were scattered across the planet’s often turbulent seas. But they were there: the provisional capital of the newly formed Galactic Alliance and birthplace of two intelligent species was called home by more than twenty-seven billion people, including the legendary Admiral Ackbar and Jedi Master Cilghal. From up on high it was impossible to appreciate the hard times Mon Calamari had seen under the resurrected clone of Emperor Palpatine and the renegade Admiral Daala—hard times that the inhabitants of the planet could well see again before this war with the Yuuzhan Vong was over.

  That’s the beauty of an ocean world, Jaina Solo thought as she guided her X-wing down to the port city Hikahi. It shows no scars.

  “XJ-Three-Twenty-three, you’re clear to dock,” came the distinctive Mon Calamari voice. “Proceed to Bay DA-Forty-two.”

  She gritted her teeth as blast scoring on the fuselage of her X-wing caught the atmosphere on reentry, provoking a violent shudder that made her R2 unit squawk in alarm.

  Moments later, as the X-wing glided in toward the docking bays, the droid tootled a short series of beeps and blips. She glanced at her craft’s translator and smiled at her R2’s message.