Aftermath: Empire's End (Star Wars: Aftermath #3)(59)

The engines hum to life and the ship begins to lift.

“I cannot imagine this is a pleasure visit,” Wartol says.

“It is not.”

“It’s certainly unorthodox.”

“I don’t think so. Is it strange for a chancellor to want to speak to one of her senators?”

“A senator who opposes her in the election, you mean?”

She smiles. “Surely despite the election, we have shared interests. We both want the best for the galaxy, do we not?”

The Orishen’s lower jaw splits and his tapered pink tongue licks along the serrated teeth on each side. “There’s no audience here, Chancellor. We’re not in the Senate house. Jettison this masquerade and speak plainly—what is it you want and why are you here?”

“The resolution to attack the Empire’s fleet on Jakku.”

“The one that failed, you mean?”

“The vote failed to pass by five votes. Just five.”

He discards an empty nektod shell into the bowl. The ship shudders as it enters atmosphere, and soon thereafter all of space and time seem to slide out from under them as the ship launches into hyperspace.

Wartol shrugs. “That’s how it happens sometimes, as you know. Votes fail, sometimes by one, sometimes by one thousand. Not that the Senate is that big yet to have a thousand votes, but it will be. When I am chancellor, new worlds will return to us.”

“As you say, there’s no audience here, so you don’t need to sell me on your candidacy. I want to talk about those five senators. Senators Ashmin Ek, Rethalow, Dor Wieedo, Grelka Sorka, and Nim Tar. Five senators, all of whom have voted with you in the past. Five senators who have worked with you across various councils and caucuses. And yet, while you voted for intervention with the Empire, they did not.”

He frowns. “They’re not automatons.”

“No. But they do take their cues from you.”

“They did not this time, it seems.”

“And yet you have not gone out of your way to convince them. The re-vote is tomorrow.” She’s fortunate—present rules allow for her to plead her case anew, further allowing for a re-vote. That is due to the fact that the margin of failure was particularly narrow: under ten votes separating the outcomes allows for the mechanism of a re-vote to trigger automatically. After this, no such mechanism will save her. No such re-vote will come into play. Which means she needs to nullify those five votes. “Why would you stand in the way of the progress you so desire, exactly? Why not chase it down? You have sway with these senators. Use it.”

“As you note, I voted for your resolution, Chancellor. I want this over with as much as you do. The Empire must fall.”

“So, I ask for your help to convince those senators,” Mon says.

“Help you? Liberation Day really did rattle your head, didn’t it?”

She leans forward. “And here I thought you said you wanted this over with as much as I do. Apparently not. You’re quite the politician. Happy to cast away your principles in favor of a victory.”

“If you say so.”

“Let me paint a picture,” she begins coldly. “You know that my resolution failing to pass is a mark against me. It reflects a failure of leadership on my part. And so you convince five senators to vote against the resolution while you protect yourself by voting in favor of it—that way, I cannot easily call you out, lest I look conspiratorial.”

“Conspiratorial, indeed.”

“You’ve laid your principles on an altar and sacrificed them.”

Now Wartol brings the heat to his voice. His jaw bisects and his tongue ripples. “You do not get to speak to me about sacrifice, Chancellor. Orish knows sacrifice. Orish knows what it is to poison ourselves so that the Empire may not consume us and our world. What do you know of it? The Empire never quite made its way to Chandrila, did it?”

“Yes, but I made my way to the Empire. I fought them. I lost people.”

“But you didn’t lose your world. You had the privilege of pursuing this fight. My people had no such privilege. The fight came to us. They enslaved us. I watched them shackle us. And beat us. And begin strip-mining our world, pilfering its resources. Our place, our people, all held under the Empire’s thumb. Until we found a way to wriggle free.”

“And I would never dismiss the perseverance of your people.”

“Dismiss it? No. You’d simply squander it. You don’t know what it takes. I and the other Orishen are masters of sacrifice. We know its value. We know how to wield it.”

“Is that what this is, then? Sacrifice?” Mon asks. “You will throw our war efforts away for your own conquest of the New Republic? The sacrifice of oneself can be noble, Senator. But the sacrifice of the safety of a whole galaxy? That is an attack on us all and I cannot abide it!”

He stands up, looming over her. She tries not to show that she feels the threat of his presence—he could crush her quite easily. She could be dead, jettisoned into space, and that would be that.

“You don’t get to tell me that. You don’t have the right. Perhaps the truth of the thing is that I feel a Republic with you at its helm is the greatest concern,” he seethes. “You are weak. Your leadership is spineless and indulgent. Liberation Day shows the truth of that.”