Чарльз Соул - Star Wars - Light of the Jedi (The High Republic)

But sometimes she wondered if they were too useful.

“I am reopening the Outer Rim,” Chancellor Soh said.

She pointed at her aide, Norel Quo, his pale skin tinted orange in the light of the sunset.

“Put out a statement to that effect immediately. Hyperspace transit through the territories is once again authorized. I’ll use executive orders to temporarily ease taxation on those trade routes as well, which will help repair any economic damage caused by the quarantine. Just for a month or so, though, which should incentivize merchants to get their goods out there quickly. That will ease the shortages.”

A quick glance at her transportation secretary.

“Do you see any issues with that, Secretary Lorillia?”

“None,” he said. “The only potential issue is a shortage of navidroids due to Keven Tarr’s array on Hetzal, but I think we all agree that was well worth the expense. I’ve already asked manufacturers to ramp up production. Perhaps some sort of stimulus for them as well, just until the inventory levels come back?”

“We’ll figure something out. That’s good news, though. Speaking of Tarr, I know he generated a report on other potential uses for his array, before he headed off to work for the San Tekkas. Have you read it?”

“I have, Chancellor. Some brilliant ideas there. Could revolutionize hypertravel, and even has applications in realspace, if we can figure out how to do it in a way that doesn’t require tens of thousands of rare, expensive droids.”

“Keep me posted, Jeffo. Could be there’s a Great Work in it, at some point. And of course, try to find a way to thank Keven Tarr. A medal or something. A high-level posting at one of the Republic universities, perhaps. A job, if you can find him one that would keep him interested. I hate to think of losing a mind like that to private industry when there’s so much to be done in the Republic.”

“I will consider,” the secretary said.

She turned her attention to Senator Noor, whose face had lit up the moment she said she was going to open the Outer Rim, and had stayed that way all through her conversation with Secretary Lorillia.

“Izzet, on a personal note,” Lina said, “I realize how trying this was for the worlds you represent. I appreciate your patience and theirs. I hope you will agree that everything we did was necessary for security and safety in the Republic.”

He gave her a grave, dignified nod. “Of course, Chancellor. I never thought otherwise.”

Lina Soh had learned to keep her emotions off her face decades before—she was a politician born and bred. Inwardly, though, her eyes rolled back so far she was once again looking out at the Coruscant sunset through the window behind her.

Noor turned to his aide, standing behind his seat with a datapad at the ready.

“I’ll make a speech as well, Wataro. We’ll need to thank the worlds for their patience and let them know that the Nihil threat has been eradicated. Schedule a tour, too. I think we start with Hetzal, Ab Dalis, and Eriadu, the worlds hit hardest by the Emergences, and then move to—”

“Senator, if I may.”

Admiral Kronara lifted his hand. Senator Noor looked at him, not hiding his annoyance at a military man daring to interrupt him.

“Admiral,” he said.

“We don’t yet know if the Nihil are gone.”

“I read your report, Kronara. Your task force destroyed hundreds of their ships in that engagement. You found their entire fleet, and you ended it. There hasn’t been a single raid since. If that’s not evidence, I don’t know what is.”

“Senator, respectfully, I think you saw what you wanted to see in that report. I can confirm that we destroyed a significant Nihil force. But at this point, we have very little intelligence about their operations. We know they had hyperspace capabilities we still don’t understand, but we don’t know how they got them, how many there were, where they’re based, if they have goals beyond just simple raiding…”

He shrugged.

“Say whatever you want in your speech. It’s not my problem. But if the Nihil aren’t gone, and they start attacking worlds in the Outer Rim again, you’ll look pretty foolish if you’ve already told your constituents they have nothing to worry about.”

Chancellor Soh enjoyed that exchange very much. Senator Noor, perhaps less so. He turned back to his aide.

“Revise the phrasing. Let’s just say that great strides have been taken toward making the Outer Rim Territories safe and secure, and we look forward to peace and prosperity in the months and years to come.”

“You know what else you might mention, Senator?” Chancellor Soh said.

Senator Noor raised an eyebrow.

“The Starlight Beacon. It’s going to open on time. I just got a report in from Shai Tennem. If the Nihil aren’t in fact gone, or if anything else pops up out there, the Beacon will be a big part of handling it.”

And the projection of Republic authority it represents will make it that much easier to negotiate the Quarren–Mon Calamari peace accords, she thought, and the Beacon itself will serve as a communications relay that will increase the reliability of transmissions across the region and act as a linchpin for the rest of the new network, and once people see how effective it is, getting a vote through to authorize the other stations just like it will be simple.

Her Great Works, falling into place one by one.

The Republic was not one world. It was many, each unique in ways large and small. Solving one problem inevitably caused others. There were intractable cultural, historical, economic, and military conflicts among inhabitants of worlds. There were warlords and agitators and malcontents and other less-easy-to-handle enemies—plagues and strange magical factions on hidden worlds who believed they should conquer the galaxy and, yes, even hyperspace anomalies.

But the key was this—and Chancellor Soh believed it to her very soul, and had made it the cornerstone of her entire government: You could not solve those problems individually. It was ridiculous to even try. What you could do, however, was make the various peoples of this high era of the Galactic Republic see one another as people. As brothers and sisters and cousins and friends, or if nothing else, just as colleagues in the shared goal of building a galaxy that welcomed all, heard all, and did its best to avoid hurting anyone. Truly tried its best.

If you could make that happen, then problems didn’t have to be solved. Many would solve themselves, because people believed in the Republic more than they believed in their own goals, and would be open to that magical word—compromise.

That wonderful day had not yet come, not fully, and perhaps it never would. But she would work toward it with every hour and day she retained her office. All she wanted, truly, was for five words to live on past her term, even past her life. The words that had already become emblematic of her Great Works and so much more. Every time she heard them, her heart lifted. That was the goal. One idea. One sentiment.

She could do it. Everyone could do it.

Chancellor Soh knew it was true. Five words.

We are all the Republic.

The Nihil stood assembled, a host of a few thousand people, masked and terrifying. They watched, silent.

The space above the Great Hall was a dome-shaped energy shield protecting the platform from the vacuum of No-Space. Ordinarily, it was invisible. But now images played across it, projected by hovering comms droids.

“For the Nihil!” came Kassav’s voice, loud and fierce, and then a response, shouted from a thousand throats, all dead now. “For the storm!”

The Battle of Kur began, displayed in a series of images ranging from tactical displays to shipcam points-of-view to wider shots assembled by comms droid processing algorithms. The Nihil watched, as did Marchion Ro from the raised table at one end of the hall, with Lourna Dee and Pan Eyta beside him. One seat at the high table remained empty, for the one who was lost.